


Till I Gain Control Again

by Adarian



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Demisexual Hawke, Demisexuality, F/M, Magic and Science, Power Imbalance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-08-22
Packaged: 2021-02-23 11:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 31,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23577535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Adarian/pseuds/Adarian
Summary: As part of a mission for the Mage Underground, an idealistic Hawke goes to Minrathous. Here she manages to not only get herself into a duel to the death with Magister Danarius but somehow survives the encounter and inherits his estate, his possessions, his funds, and his position in the Senate. A staunch abolitionist, she is horrified by owning slaves and learns of the complicated bureaucracy Tevinter society has built to ensure slavery continues - including the designation of Fenris as intellectual property, making it impossible for her to free him without Hadriana's consent.This only grows more complicated as Hawke and Fenris realize that even in death Danarius has one last hold on his favourite slave - a curse that forces Fenris to submit to sex with his master regularly. How can they navigate this while still building trust between them?
Relationships: Fenris/Female Hawke, Fenris/Female Hawke & Fenris/Dorian Pavus
Comments: 17
Kudos: 69





	1. Chapter 1

**cw: there is a long running theme of slaves facing sexual abuse, but everything is historical, off page, and only vaguely discussed**

Hawke had never been to Tevinter before this trip and she had no intention of ever returning to it. She had a mission, a brief one, and then she was going back home. Deliver Feynriel to Mistress Tilani. Take a fleeing slave back with her using Feynriel's paperwork. She wasn't supposed to be in Minrathous for more than a few days. Just enough to fulfill her cover story (bringing over a special wine from Varric to his favourite cousin) and get Feynriel settled. That was it. Then back to Kirkwall and her normal life working beside Anders in their Darktown clinic and working for the Underground at night. Hawke wasn't even supposed to be the one running this mission, but Arianni had been so vulnerable, had pleaded with Hawke. Feynriel was half-elven. Oh yes, he passed just fine, but he was fleeing into Tevinter. Maybe someone would be intrigued enough to have a Dreamer as their apprentice, but he could be sold as a slave before he even got off the boat. He needed to be delivered personally and she didn't trust anyone but Hawke to do it. 

So Hawke left Anders with her half of the clinical work, packed a bag, and used the little coin she had to smuggle Feynriel out of Kirkwall before the Templars started raiding the Alienage looking for him. Anders had been a little pissed at her and did his usual woe-be-gone sad puppy eyes but he was clearly more jealous than upset. He had always been intrigued by Tevinter. He didn't want to live there, but the idea of mages being solely in control of their own fate was an intoxicating one. It was one of the few things he and Hawke argued about. Hawke wasn't necessarily against having a regulatory body for magic and she thought there was enough in common with the slave trafficking of elves in Tevinter and the abuse of mages outside of it that the fights were one and the same. But she understood where the difference between them came from. Hawke had always been an apostate and living in fear of the threat of Templars. Anders knew first hand what they were capable of and he had Justice to ramp up any of the hate in his otherwise soft heart. She couldn't blame him for that. Any other man would have been torn to shreds by that forceful will. Anders was one of the strongest people she had ever met and she was grateful to call him her closest friend.

Anders would have been smart enough not to get into the position she was in now. He would have at least read a pamphlet about Tevinter politics before getting on the boat. Hawke instead had read a naughty novel that Isabela had bought for her, plum full of steamy scenes between devilish Tevinter mages and noble and well-hung Qunari. Not exactly educational, but very diverting. And it was probably all that romantic sense of honour that had convinced her it was a good idea to propose a magic duel in the first place. Hawke hadn't known Danarius. She hadn't even met him before that night.

It had all begun in the marketplace. She had been looking for clothes and gear for the young elven woman she was escorting back to Kirkwall. Hawke didn't know her name because the girl had refused to speak since she had escaped. Hawke didn't blame her. She just called her sweetheart and the poor thing seemed to accept it for now. Hawke knew once she got her to Kirkwall and set her up with Merrill, she would be more at ease. 

So Hawke was by herself in the marketplace. She had just finished her purchases and had settled down in a dive bar for something disgusting to drink and something even worse to eat. Once she received her bowl of...something, Hawke bowed her head to say a quick prayer and broke open a piece of somewhat edible bread. She started her meal and despite the fact she barely knew any Tevene, she felt oddly at home. A seedy tavern was a seedy tavern. It wasn't much unlike the Hanged Man back home. It was easy enough to pretend she was there, eating an equally awful stew with Alistair, the poor drunk who pretended to be a prince. They had lunch together most days, Hawke always paying and making sure he had a little coin to buy dinner. She almost felt like he should be at the table beside her. Or maybe Isabela. Dear Isabela who would tease her for working too hard and would convince her to go dancing in the alleyway. Or Varric, workshopping his material with her, while Hawke helped with the dialogue and Merrill watched him like he was the most brilliant man who had ever existed. She was so achingly homesick and yet here was the most at home she had felt since she left Kirkwall.

Hawke was halfway done her meal when the room went quiet, just for a second. She heard the tail end of a slap, clearly what the crowd had reacted to. Hawke swigged the last of her beer and brought her bowl with her while she investigated. Trying to make her way through the room, someone shoved into her, spilling her food down her shirt. A few people laughed but Hawke ignored them. She saw movement towards the backrooms, a middle-aged man gripping the wrist of a teenage girl. Hawke walked faster, chasing up the stairs. In the little Tevene she knew, she got from the man's berating that the girl was a slave and she had somehow displeased her master. The girl looked over her shoulder and at seeing Hawke, the smallest sliver of hope crossed her tear stained face. 

Hawke called out for the man to stop. He didn't listen at first, but Hawke reached him, grabbing his shoulder, and forcing him to look at her. 

The man spoke to her coldly but she had no idea what he was saying. She just looked at the girl. She was even younger than Hawke had guessed but with her dark skin and bright blue eyes, she looked so strikingly like Bethany at ten years old that Hawke didn't care what he said. She was getting her out of there.

Hawke demanded in Tevene, "How much?"

The man's expression changed, his eyebrow raising. By the price he suggested, Hawke could tell he was offering her a daily rate, not permanent ownership. Hawke clarified she meant to buy him out, not bothering to hide her disgust. They negotiated until Hawke had nothing left to give. She finally threw in her silver ring, a birthday present from Isabela. The man scoffed but he gave her the girl's ownership certificate and said something clearly obscene to the girl before shoving her at Hawke. 

The girl spoke rapidly in Tevene and Hawke asked her to slow down. The girl must have guessed her accent because she switched to Common, saying in a pair of slow, stilted words: "Thank you."

Hawke smiled and offered her hand. "Come on." 

Hawke brought the girl back to the Tilani Estate and into Maevaris' study hidden deep in her cellar. At the sight of them, Maevaris stopped what she was doing and started speaking to the girl in Tevene, her voice so soft and sweet that the girl broke into tears. Maevaris knelt down before her and held her face in her hands. They talked for a long time before Maevaris took her into the backrooms, presumably to the sleeping quarters she kept for secret guests. 

When Maevaris returned, Hawke asked, "Is she okay?" 

"Physically, mostly. It seems she has some form of epilepsy," Maevaris explained. "She had a small seizure just before you found her. She's apparently been having them since she started menstruating. Otherwise she's very healthy. I can send a letter along with you explaining treatment options. I imagine between you and Anders you can manage it."

"I appreciate that, Mae," Hawke said. "I truly do."

Maevaris sighed. "Hawke, you can't simply purchase every slave you see. It's a systemic problem and you can't afford to solve it by yourself. And he overcharged you, especially considering her condition. I don't mean to say that some lives are worth more than others, but if you were to be rescuing people by purchasing them, you could have gotten her mother as well for the same price."

"Is her mother still alive?" Hawke asked.

Maevaris said, "The man you bought her from is her father. He sired her on his elven slave girl. She had twin brothers. One died, the other sold. Her mother had two miscarriages after them and she's expecting another. Not the same father. Apparently he shares her with his colleagues at parties. Phoebe's worried she might not survive this pregnancy. The last miscarriage nearly killed her." 

"How do we find-"

"Hawke," Maevaris said, "you can't fix this so easily. You are supposed to go back to Kirkwall tomorrow. You are needed there. You know that. You have done a good deed but you have to let this one go. Phoebe is twelve years old. Slaves cannot be freed between twelve and fourteen. They have to be assessed for tax purposes so it can be determined how much her freedom is worth as an adult. Children are all the same rate but she's not considered a child anymore. And if you take her with you, she will be legally still a slave until you free her here in Tevinter. Slavery is built on bureaucracy and you can't change that by the time you get on that boat in the morning. This is my fight. You need to go back to yours."

Hawke hung her head. "How much would she be worth to free? Rough guess?"

Maevaris said softly, "More than you could afford, Hawke. It's more and more difficult to free slaves now. The economy would collapse if we made it easy. I know a few people. I can arrange for her to be evaluated early and I can play up how severe her condition is. I should be able to have her freed by the end of the year. But this isn't something I can do frequently. Because I'm doing this now, it means there's someone else later I can't protect. Do you understand?"

Hawke nodded. "I understand."

Maevaris ran her hand through Hawke's hair. "Dear girl. You have done nothing wrong. Come now. You should get some rest. You have a long journey ahead of you. Go to the baths and then to bed. For my sake, if not yours."

Hawke agreed, at least to the first of her suggestions. Hawke was clever and she was charming and within an hour at the public baths, she gained all the information she needed to. Phoebe's father was Titus, a minor businessman, who was indeed throwing one of his parties that night. Hawke listened to all of this, feigning indifference, but her plan came together.

It would be easy enough. During the party, she was going to steal Phoebe's mother, any documentation about the sold twin, and smuggle them onto the boat with Hawke's identification papers. Hawke would send word along to Isabela and Isabela would send someone to pick her up. Then she would just hide out with Phoebe until she was freed and take the girl back with her to Kirkwall. 

Maevaris was right. It was hard to accomplish anything playing by their rules. But who said that they had to play by their rules?

*****

It was hard to remember everything that passed. Hawke had nearly died. She could remember that much. That made an impression on a person. But the rest?

It wasn't Titus who caught her. It had been Danarius. What a powerful Magister was doing at a middling party, Hawke didn't know. There was some sort of connection. Maybe Titus owned something Danarius was invested in. But Danarius had caught her. She had already gotten Phoebe's mother out the back and headed to Maevaris through the back paths. She had been in Titus' study, looking feverishly through his books, looking for any information that could be useful to find Phoebe's brother.  
Danarius had been there but...why? There had been someone with him. A man. Maybe an elf. A tall elf. Maybe they were sneaking off to have sex. It was always sex in Tevinter. Hawke knew she was about to be arrested. And if she was, then her connection to Magister Tilani could be tied to the Mage Underground and it could all come crumbling down because she had been stupid enough to think she could fix this.

But a duel? Why a duel? Why hadn't she tried to bribe him or run or something else? It had to be one of Isabela's stupid romance books. The one thing she had remembered about Tevinter society. Their stupid bloody duels.

She remembered being brought out into the street and feeling such strong panic. Her life was flashing before her eyes and all she could think of was her brother Carver. They had fought terribly right before she left and now she was never going to get to apologize to him. She would die with him thinking that she hated him. Why hadn't she just said she was sorry?

Hawke hadn't cheated. She knew that. But she had been downed. She was kneeling on the ground, her life about to end, when Danarius loomed over her, about to claim victory. With her last ounce of strength, she tore open his robe and put her hand over his heart. Then she shocked him with enough electricity to burn out his entire circulatory system. Dramatic, but no one could see what she had done. They only saw Danarius fall over stone cold dead and Hawke stand shakily to her feet.

For about six seconds before she passed out. She didn't hit the ground. Someone caught her and she remembered clinging to them. They smelt like ozone, like they had been close enough for the lightning to pass through their body too. 

Now having recollected how she got where she was, she tried to process where exactly that was. She was lying on a leather settee in what looked like a library but all the books were bound the exact same way. The carpet was a brighter red than she had seen outside of blood. It made her queasy just looking at it. 

Hawke looked around the brown paneled room until she noticed that she was not alone. A strikingly handsome elf stood by the door, his dark brown skin striped with near glowing white. His green eyes met hers and she felt suddenly quite naked. She felt like he could see straight through her and he was unimpressed with what he saw. She couldn't blame him. She wasn't exactly impressed with herself at the moment either. 

Hawke tried to greet him in Tevene, but the elf replied to her in Common.

"If you are awake, Mistress, I will inform the barrister."

Hawke wanted to ask him what was going on but he left before she could. She sat up, wincing, a hand protectively against what had recently been a shattered rib. Whoever had tended her had done a decent job but wasn't primarily a healer. She fought the urge to fix it herself. She might just have to fight her way out of here and she needed every inch of magic just in case.

A moment later the elf returned and asked Hawke to follow him. They went a few doors down the hall and into a plush office. An elderly man in black robes rose from behind his desk and offered his hand to Hawke. She frowned but shook it.

The man spoke to her in Tevene and the elf said something to the barrister quietly. The man frowned at the elf but nodded at him.

The elf said, "Excuse my speaking without permission, Mistress. Barrister Evaessi does not speak Common Trade. May I act as translator?"

Hawke nodded. "Okay."

After confirming her name and that she was indeed the heir to the Amell Estate (or what was left of it), Evaessi began to explain what she was doing there, going to his desk to retrieve very official looking forms. 

The elf interpreted, "You qualify for Tevinter citizen as a mage of a prestigious bloodline and therefore are entitled to your rights as the survivor of a sanctioned duel. As of today, you will be of equal status as Magister Danarius was and after the Imperial Senate meets next week, you will be officially given his seat in the Magisterium." 

Hawke blinked. "Excuse me?"

The barrister seemed frustrated and made a few gestures to the elf before he translated, "By killing Danarius in a sanctioned duel, you have gained his entire estate. His home, his investments, his slaves, his title. Everything."

"Everything?"

"Yes, Mistress." 

Hawke asked skeptically, "You kill a guy and you get all his stuff? Why don't people do this all the time then?"

The elf's expression barely changed but something in his eyes softened. "Most who challenge a Magister in duel do not survive the encounter, Mistress. You were very fortunate. Barrister Evaessi says that he does not understand why Danarius would accept a duel with a stranger and he clearly thinks you do not deserve the benefits of his foolhardy decision. I can better explain much of this later but it would not be wise for you to act so perplexed in front of him. If you are able to keep your composure, I would suggest attempting to do so."

"I don't want this," Hawke insisted. 

The elf frowned. "You do not want this?" 

"What if I just want to go home? What if I just sell everything, give up my seat, and just call it a day? I can do that, right?"

The elf asked the barrister and the man groaned, rubbing his temples. He gave a very long explanation that the elf summarized with a quick, "No." 

Hawke raised an eyebrow. "No?"

"He says that if you wished to do so, you will have to find another barrister. If you would forgive the impertinence, Mistress, you are unlikely to find another who will take you on as a client. Solicitor Evaessi is the executor of Danarius' will. He has made it clear that otherwise he would have interest in representing - if you'll forgive me - a Ferelden apostate with a non-mage mother and a father with no known lineage. He has also insinuated that you will likely be dead by the end of the month by an assassination attempt as there will be others who covet your position and will take it by whatever means they will." 

Hawke asked, "Can I trust him?"

The elf admitted, "You can trust no one, Mistress. But he does receive ten percent of Danarius' yearly income. I expect that if that arrangement was to continue that you could retain his services."

Evaessi said something impatiently and the elf said quickly, "I would suggest that you discuss this later with another translator, Mistress. I am not who should be representing your affairs. Do you have another you wish me to send for?"

Hawke knew she shouldn't be public about her association with Maevaris but she was safer than calling on the few underground contacts she had. She gave the elf Maevaris' information and the elf said something to the barrister before bowing deeply to them both and leaving.

Evaessi said something that Hawke couldn't understand but then poured them both a drink. He sipped his first to show it wasn't poisoned. Hawke held her glass but she didn't even sniff it. It wasn't worth the risk. After awhile the barrister seemed to notice and he chuckled before finishing his own glass.

In thirty minutes another man in black robes entered the room. He shook Evaessi's hand before bowing deeply to Hawke. Hawke expected the elf to follow but instead the door closed behind him. 

"Apologies for my lateness," the man said in Common. "I am Barrister Arcadin. I represent Mistress Tilani in her financial investments in the Free Marches. Your bodyguard Fenris has updated me on the situation. I am here to advise you." 

Hawke could have wept. Financial investments. That was Maevaris' code for her connection to the underground in Kirkwall. This was her lawyer in case she was ever caught breaking international law. 

Hawke asked, "How do I get out of this?"

Arcadin sighed. "I will be frank, Mistress Hawke. If you leave this seat open, there will be aristocratic warfare. We can find a way for you to give up the title in a way that does not cause chaos, but that will take time. There is no easy answer here. Magister Danarius has no family who can inherit his position. You have no heirs and none of your family members are mages. They can be compensated for what your arcane possessions are worth but they will not be able to own them. Only cash, bonds, investments, that sort of thing. Family heirlooms too, if shown to have no magical properties, and one slave per family member."

"Well, that's fine, I don't plan to keep any slaves."

"You intend to sell them?"

"Free them," Hawke clarified sternly. "How many did Danarius own?"

Arcadin asked Evaessi and then responded, "Seventeen."

Hawke let out a low whistle. "Seventeen..."

Arcadin explained, "You won't be able to free all of them right away, if that is what you wish. To prevent a drop in the market, you may only free twelve a year. Depending on Danarius' finances, you might not be able to afford than that anyways, as you will have to pay a fee that equals the full price for each. You may however put in your will that all slaves you own are to be freed at time of your death but your executor will only be able to do so if there are funds to cover it."

Evaessi spoke directly to Arcadin for a time, who nodded along, his brow furrowing deeper and deeper until he turned back to Hawke. "Your bodyguard is a more complicated matter. He is not registered as a slave but as intellectual property."

"Intellectual property?" Hawke asked in disgust. "How?"

"You'll have to speak to Danarius' apprentice, Hadriana," Arcadin apologized. "He is not simply a slave, but part of Danarius' research. Barrister Evaessi is not sure of the exact details. He would be able look further into it, but I would recommend that for a later time. He is, however, not included among the seventeen slaves." 

Arcadin spoke to Evaessi for a moment and it was clear that their discussion was turning into an argument. Hawke waited for a time, watching in confusion. She had no idea what the subject was or who was winning.

Finally Arcadin asked, "Do you mean this sincerely? You mean to free all seventeen as soon as possible?"

"Yes," Hawke insisted. "And I want all investments I have in the slave trade to be immediately liquidated." 

Arcadin asked, "Do you have any money on you? Even a copper?"

Hawke pulled out her coin purse and handed Arcadin a silver. Evaessi groaned at this and gestured something that even Hawke understood was quite rude.

Arcadin explained, "You've just given me a retainer. I'm your barrister now. I suggest that we now leave before my colleague becomes truly enraged." 

Arcadin escorted her out of the room and called for the elven bodyguard just outside the door to follow them quickly down the hall. The elf kept close behind Hawke. She should have felt encroached on but instead felt a bit more secure.

Hawke looked over her shoulder to look at him but the elf's eyes were fixed ahead of them. He had the look that Aveline got when she was on patrol. She knew better than to interrupt his focus.

She turned back to Arcadin. "Where are we going?"

"You and your bodyguard are going to Danarius' estate. You need to make your presence there clear as soon as possible. I will have to go to my office and make arrangements. Once you arrive, do not leave until I send word."

Once they got outside and to the street, Arcadin hailed down a carriage and helped Hawke inside. Before the elf climbed in beside her, the barrister said something to him in quiet but stern Tevene. As soon as the elf sat, the carriage jolted forward and raced down the street.

Hawke started shaking, the weight of it all hitting her. 

In his low and steady way, the elf said, "You have nothing to fear, Mistress. I will protect you as I protected my Master before you. No harm will come to you."

Hawke asked, "What is your name, friend?"

"The Magister called me Fenris. If that would please you, Mistress, you could call me the same."

Hawke smiled sadly. "I did not ask what he called you. I want to know what you would like me to call you."

The elf looked away. "Fenris would suit me, Mistress."

"You don't have to call me that," Hawke said softly. "In fact, I'd rather if you didn't. You can call me Hawke. Everyone does."

He said nothing in return. Hawke bit her lip and looked out the window. She sniffed back a few tears and took a deep breath. She had messed up. Really, really messed up. But she was going to fix it. She was going to make it work. She had to. She had a responsibility to free eighteen people and she had to stay alive long enough to do it. 

****

Hawke was too on edge to be impressed by the massive estate she now owned. She didn't ask for a grand tour or to be shown all the amazing features of a house that had the same square footage as the Alienage. She asked for three things: warm water, something to eat, and some clothes that weren't covered in both her and a dead man's blood.

Fenris led her to a guest room and gave her over to an attendant. Fenris stood just outside of the room as a woman helped Hawke clean up and managed to find something for her to wear. Once Hawke felt half human again, she sat on the bed with thick spiced tea and some flat fried cakes. Fenris entered the room and stood at her side of the door stoically.

"Have you eaten?" Hawke asked. "There's enough for us both."

Fenris replied quietly, "I do not eat in the presence of my Mistress without permission and it would not be appropriate to eat the same food as her."

Hawke's voice softened. "Fenris, please come sit and eat with me."

Fenris went over to her side and sat on the floor in front of her. Hawke got off the bed and sat down beside him. She poured him a cup of tea first before pouring one for herself. She broke one of the cakes in half and offered it to him. Fenris hesitated before taking it. He took a tentative first bite and Hawke smiled.

Hawke said softly, "Thank you, for everything you did in the barrister's office. You gave me good counsel when you didn't have to."

"It is my position to protect my Mistress. I did not want you to harm yourself because of a lack of knowledge."

"I'm afraid then that I've put you in an unusual situation," Hawke replied. "I do intend to free you and the rest of Danarius' slaves but I'm told that your status will make that more difficult. I don't know how you felt about your Master, but you must have known him well. It cannot be easy to serve the person who killed him."

Fenris bowed his head. "It would not be appropriate for me to speak ill of him."

Hawke nodded and said quietly, "I see."

They drank their tea silently for a time before Hawke said, "You don't have to act as my bodyguard, Fenris. I want us to be equals, even friends if that's possible. You may be in my household for some time until I can free you. If I can free you. I don't know how any of this is going to work and I could really use your help. I want to try to do the right thing and I don't know who I can trust to make that happen."

Fenris did not reply and Hawke took that silence as consideration. She didn't press the matter but felt a glimmer of hope seeing that he continued to eat with her. She offered him a second cup of tea and he declined politely. "No thank you."

He hadn't called her Mistress. It might have been a slip but it might have been a sign that he was willing to consider trusting her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm weirdly listening to a lot of classic country music writing this and I don't like country music so I don't know what that's about


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> that first chapter was unusually long, this is closer to the length we're looking at from here on out

After their meal on the floor together, Fenris called for a chambermaid to help Hawke ready for rest. It was almost dawn now but she had not yet slept and it would be some time before the barrister returned. She would be more vulnerable if she were sleep deprived. 

On duty outside her door, Fenris mulled over what Hawke had said. It could be a trap, but Hawke seemed a bit foolish for such a trap. Worse, she was possibly well meaning and would do what she thought was right only to doom them all. Fenris was not entirely sure what she meant about his status being complicated but he assumed it had to do with Hadriana. She might have a share in his ownership as Danarius' apprentice. If that was the case, Hawke might not be able to free him without her permission and Fenris knew Hadriana would never allow for it. Hadriana would not respect Hawke. She would likely even attempt to have her killed. Which would be a pity but not unexpected. Hawke was skilled enough to survive her duel with Danarius but Danarius had been drunk and cocky and Hawke had been desperate and very, very lucky. 

Fenris had had no idea that Hawke would win and take his Master's place but he was shocked how easy it was to transfer himself to her. Danarius had been dead mere seconds before Fenris had chosen to catch her from falling instead of taking his former Master's body into his arms. He had already wanted to keep her safe. It might have been instinct but he knew that it was in part because he already respected her. She had been caught freeing a slave and instead of giving up the elf to the authorities, she gambled her own life to give them time to run. It was an absurd and noble tactic that Fenris should have scoffed at but he found that he admired it. It had already affected his tone with her and he was grateful that she knew so little about Tevinter society that she did not know how rude he had been to her at Evaessi's office. He had been impertinent with giving her advice and worse so by bringing her there in the first place. His duty was to bring her to the guard to be processed but he hadn't wanted to risk her losing Danarius' holdings. 

Then even worse, Fenris had agreed to eat with her. He could tell himself that he was following an order but he had made the choice. Fenris had even forgotten to call her Mistress in addressing her, as if she were his equal and not his owner. Whatever her intentions were, he was not free and he could not act like a free man. He did not know her temper but he could not risk being vulnerable with her only for her to treat him as Danarius or Hadriana did. 

Fenris guarded her until the barrister returned. Hawke met with him in Danarius' study. She had asked Fenris to accompany her to listen in but Arcadin advised against it. Hawke was reluctant but agreed and so Fenris stood outside the door for nearly two hours before the barrister left again. Hawke soon followed, weariness written all over her face.

"Fenris," she asked. "Is it too early to wake the rest of the household? I would like to address the slaves working here."

Fenris assured it was not too early, though he expected the night guard had just gone to bed. He called for all to gather in the dining hall and once all seventeen were accounted for, he stood by Hawke at the head of the table.

Hawke looked around the table at all of them. "Hi. My name is Adaia Hawke and apparently I now own this estate and all of you. I know how word travels through a manor like this so I won't get into the details of how this all happened because you probably know more than I do. But I want to get something clear. I'm not your master. I don't want to be addressed as Mistress. I don't want you to serve me. In fact, I intend to free each and every one of you. Now, according to Tevinter tax laws, I can only free twelve of you this year. I'm not sure how we're going to figure out who gets to go free first but I'll try to make it as fair as possible. For the other five, you will be remaining here but you will only be slaves on paper. You will all be given a stipend and live at the estate with all food and accommodations taken care of. If anyone would like to stay on as a servant, you will be welcomed to do so and paid a fair and living wage on top of that stipend. My lawyer tells me within six months I should be able to have all of you freed. But I don't want to simply give you your freedom and kick you out with nothing to your name. I would like to meet and talk to all of you and figure out together how I can best support you."

Hawke concluded, "I'm afraid my Tevene is pretty awful, so I will be using Fenris as my translator until I pick up the language a bit better. I hope none of you will mind if he sits in on our meetings. Unless of course you speak Common, which I hope at least a few of you do."

None did so Fenris indeed sat in on Hawke's one on one meetings with her slaves. She worked with the schedules of the others, not ordering them to drop their duties in order to speak with her. No one seemed confident enough to simply stop working, fearful Hawke would change her mind.

But by the end of those interviews, after Fenris had spent more than twenty hours watching Hawke plan for the futures of the others, Fenris knew that there was no changing Hawke's mind. Not in this or in any other endeavor. She was practical, breaking down each plan into tasks and considering any pitfalls. But more than this, she was kind. She discussed their fears, their dreams, all with a smile on her face that Fenris knew was real. Hawke was thick skinned and stubborn as an ox, but she had a soft heart. 

There was no way she would survive long enough to free the last five slaves. Surely all of them knew that, even if they did not say so aloud. 

In the end, the slaves decided among themselves who would stay in service until the next year. Five volunteered, three immediately and two after considering it for a time. The head chef was well into her late seventies and was determined to give the young people a chance to live. This inspired a pair of twin sisters who worked as housekeepers, as they were only a few years younger than the chef and both of who were mostly deaf and feared the transition to freedom. There were debates for the other two slots but eventually two came forward. The gardener, a man a few years younger than Hawke, and a pleasure slave, an agender beauty barely of age. 

It was late and Fenris accompanied an exhausted Hawke into her bedchamber. She readied as she discussed her plans for moving the slaves out of their mouldering quarters and into the various guest rooms around the house.

"I only noticed seventeen cots," Hawke commented. "Where do you sleep?"

"On the floor before my Master's bed. I will remain there. I need no bedroom." 

"Fenris," Hawke argued, "you can't sleep on the floor like a dog. If you're worried about my safety, I'll turn the adjoining office into a bedroom. Or if that's too much, we'll get you a cot for my room. But you're not sleeping on the floor. I can't believe I didn't realize that was what you were doing. Maker, your back must be killing you."

"Mistress, once you meet with Hadriana tomorrow it will be common knowledge that Danarius is dead and that you are to become a Magister. I will not leave you vulnerable to an assassination. I have slept at the foot of Danarius' bed for years. This is where I belong in my service to you. The only exception would be if you were to want my services for your pleasure in which case I would share your bed until my duties were finished." 

Hawke looked horrified. "Good God, no. Was that...did you do that often?" 

Fenris replied, "It was part of my duties most nights for Danarius and sometimes for his guests if he wished it. I found that I...excuse me, Mistress, you do not need to know the details. It was not always an entirely unpleasant activity. Though it is more that I...I miss it, even though it has only been a few days. I am content to resume those duties if you wish." 

Hawke looked near sick but her voice remained soft and calming. "Fenris, it's okay to have complicated feelings about it. I can't imagine what you've gone through. I'm here for you if you ever want to talk about it but we also don't have to. Whatever you need. But I will never, ever force anything on you. I will never hurt you. You're safe with me. I will do everything I can to protect you. I swear it."

Fenris did not know what to say. He was surprised she did not want him. By her face, perhaps she was repulsed by him. He found it disappointed him. There was something unsatisfied in him, the sort of ache he felt when Danarius had cast him from him for days at a time. Fenris grew needy for him then, desperate for him to touch him, unable to think of anything else until Danarius had him or watched Fenris with another. Fenris had been disgusted by it but it had been a part of him for so long, since perhaps even that first time he had tried to escape. Perhaps he was just transferring all of that to her. Perhaps he was just broken. Perhaps he was just as much of an animal as Hadriana had said he was. A mabari stud made to be broken in and bred at his master's command. Perhaps that was what Hawke was doing. Danarius had done the same. Be so gentle and sweet and then send him away until Fenris would come begging for him. It was better to push the issue now and be done with it instead of waiting for her to force it later. 

Hawke called softly, "Fenris."

Fenris came back to the moment, to him standing before Hawke just outside her bedroom. He apologized profusely but she only asked if she could hold his hand. He allowed it and he found that his racing heart began to slow. In that moment, Fenris wanted to believe her, he truly did, but if she were to use him then he would rather it happen on his own terms then when he was foolish enough to trust her intentions.

"I will share your bed, Mistress," Fenris murmured. "I can please you. I am not without skill. Let me please you."

Hawke moved her hand to his chest, gently pushing him away. "No."

"Mistress-"

"Fenris," Hawke said firmly. "It's not happening. Now, do you want your own bedroom or do you want to sleep in the study?" 

Fenris relented, "I will sleep in the study if that pleases you, Mistress, but I do not think it wise for me to rest much farther from you."

Hawke's face softened a little but only a little. "Good. I'm exhausted so I expect you are too. We'll get a good night sleep and we can talk about this in the morning."

Fenris would spend the night on the couch in the study but he could not sleep. He tried to shuffle to get comfortable but that ache within him was only growing worse. Not exactly desire but still need. What had it been, three days? What was wrong with him that he was so easily ready to serve his new master when he had nothing but disgust for the last one? At least there had been relief in sex. The ache would fade and Danarius could be cruel in bed but he was still gentler there than anywhere else. And Fenris felt strongest then, felt some sort of control. What influence did he have with her if not through sex? None. He would be dependent on her kindness and he couldn't rely on that. She had noble intentions but she was a mage and was being given great and terrible power. Even if she were as kind as she seemed, she would be corrupted long before it was possible to free him. Though perhaps some of the others would be let go...though likely they would just be replaced if they were. 

Fenris tried to relieve the ache himself but he accomplished nothing but further frustration. He rarely achieved this on his own and it was always in the presence of Danarius, who typically mocked him for it. He had not expected that to be different but he had hoped it would be so. 

That was even worse, to have a bit of hope. It was dangerous, more dangerous than anything else. If he were not careful, Hawke could use it against him.


	3. Chapter 3

Hawke had slept a grand total of six hours since she had killed Danarius. She was not entirely sure how she was still functioning except out of pure necessity. She was meeting with Hadriana for lunch and then Arcadin would be there in the afternoon to begin the mountains and mountains of paperwork ahead of her. Maevaris had promised to join her for dinner, apologizing for her absence thus far, but Hawke was not entirely sure she was going to make it until then. She was exhausted, overwhelmed, and on top of that very confused about her conversation with Fenris. 

Hawke was not a particularly sexual being. She had had sex before a few times but it wasn't something she was really into. She might enjoy it with a partner but it was more about them having fun then anything else. So it wasn't like she was tempted at all by Fenris' offer. It was just more of trying to figure out how to not hurt or offend Fenris as he was figuring out how to deal with his sexual trauma. He hadn't really sounded like he wanted to sleep with her but was also irritated with her for not wanting to sleep with him. They had been getting along so well that it seemed to throw a wrench into everything. 

Hawke took lunch in the library and managed to get to rummage through it a little before Hadriana showed up. Her Tevene was terrible so there was a good chunk she couldn't read but there were medical texts that she had never dreamed of existing. There was more information on hearing loss and recovery in one shelf than she and Anders had accumulated in their grimoires combined. It was a true treasure and yet it was coated in a layer of dust. Whatever Danarius had been interested in, it certainly wasn't this. 

Hadriana arrived and lunch was served before the fireplace. Hadriana seemed unimpressed by the small spread and asked about the health of her cook.

Hawke replied, "She is well. However, she has been busy working on travel provisions for her colleagues. I told her I had no need for anything other than tea and some sandwiches. I can call for more if you are hungry."

Hadriana raised an eyebrow. "Your slaves are going on a journey? Without you?"

"Shortly they will no longer be my slaves," Hawke explained. "And that is in part why I have called you here today."

Hadriana's voice grew cool. "I see. And what else are we meant to discuss?"

"I'll be honest with you, Hadriana. I've talked to my barrister for a great deal of time over this and I've decided to end your apprenticeship effective today. I am not sure of the exact nature of your work but I do know that you have been experimenting on slaves and that one of my current slaves you have claimed as your intellectual property."

Hadriana had at first looked as if she would argue but then she smirked. "So this is about Fenris then."

"I know about your treatment of him," Hawke said, biting back a growl. "The staff have told me stories of how you would beat him, deny him meals, sexually assault him, and torture him."

"Danarius treated him no better."

"That didn't give you license to do the same," Hawke responded. "Now, I'm willing to let this go but in exchange you will need to tell me exactly what you did to him and what consequences there are to his health if you stop experimenting on him. Then you're going to sign over his ownership to me. Do that, and we can part on good terms and I will be happy to give a recommendation to your future teacher."

Hadriana laughed. "And if not? What could you, a penniless hedge mage, be possibly capable of that I should fear? Why should I possibly relent to your demands?" 

Hawke leaned forward, the growl breaking through. "I don't know what you've heard about me, Hadriana, but I can tell you that you should be very afraid of this hedge mage. This is a one-time deal. I don't make second offers. I don't negotiate. Take it or I will destroy every facet of your life that you care about."

Hadriana leaned forward and met her glare with just as much heat. "Strong words for a flea-ridden Ferelden refugee. You think you have the power in this situation? We both know you won't live to see the fortnight through if you stay in Tevinter. Your lifespan is a matter of days if you try to take Danarius' seat. I can outwait you. I may not inherit his title or his wealth, but his arcane research, including Fenris, will belong to me. I will not give up my wolf so you can die with your pride intact."

Hadriana's face twisted into a sick smile. "Have you bedded him yet? You might not be so willing to rid yourself of him if you do."

Hawke ordered, "Get out."

Hadriana took one of the sandwiches and chuckled to herself as she left. She lingered as she passed Fenris, licking her lip before murmuring something to him in Tevene. Fenris closed his eyes and said nothing to her as she left.

Hawke went to his side and asked him if he was all right. Fenris said nothing.

Hawke said gently to him, "I'd like to rest for awhile before Arcadin comes. I've had the couch moved into my room so we can put a bed in the study for you. Would you try to sleep for a time? You look like you're about to fall over." 

Fenris still said nothing but he followed her. Once they entered her room, she told him to lie down and once he was lying on the couch, she put a pillow behind his head and tucked a blanket around him. Fenris didn't protest but he looked at her in mild confusion as she sat on the other end of the couch. 

Hawke said softly, "Go sleep. I'll be right here."

Fenris frowned but his eyes still drooped closed. 

_______________________________

Hawke worked with Arcadin on the cases and after two days, the first twelve slaves received their freedom. By the end of the week, if Hawke were still alive then, most would be gone. Hawke had helped some with accommodations and finding employment, but at least half were glad to take her money and move forward with their lives. The remaining two were still children, two girls under ten years. Hawke was negotiating with their mother's owner, attempting to bribe him to free their mother so all three could be together. The bribery was not going particularly well and it seemed likely the girls would be staying with them for some time. 

The estate should have been quieter but instead it was livelier. The children played in the halls, finally free to explore the manor. The sisters chatted loudly while they worked, both apparently terrible gossips. The gardener, under Hawke's direction, was turning the great sculpture and stone displays into a working garden, full of medicinal herbs and edible plants. The former pleasure slave was interested in training as a healer and Hawke, being of the discipline herself, was more than happy to involve them in the work of the garden and training the youth in the art of medicine. All of them were to be paid wages and the two girls an allowance. Hawke was currently arranging for a tutor for them and she wanted to make sure that they had all the supplies they needed for one day going to school. And now the remaining slaves each had their own bedroom in the main house. Hawke had even given the master guest suite to the chef, since it was on the ground floor and easier for the woman to access the kitchen.

In just two days, Hawke had completely changed the estate and while the others took to it easily, Fenris felt only increasingly anxious. This seemed too easy, too simple. Surely it was dangerous to dismiss so many slaves so quickly, especially since Fenris was now her only form of security. 

And there was the matter of the ache. Hadriana had known. She grinned at him, that sick sinister grin that normally preceded her twisted games. As she left, she had said to him that if he were to become a free man, he would never be satisfied. He could pretend he was Hawke's equal but unless he submitted to her, he would be driven insane by desire. Hadriana could fix it, if he begged her, but only if he came to her of his own free will. If only he bound himself to her service forever. 

Hawke had been so tender with Fenris after her meeting with Hadriana. He wondered if she knew, if she were competing with Hadriana. Which one of them would Fenris go to? Which would own his soul as well as his body?

If he chose Hawke and then Hawke was killed, Hadriana would torture Fenris for the rest of his life. If he chose Hadriana, then she might show some mercy but it would mean betraying the only person who had shown him a shred of kindness. But that kindness could be a trick, just a ploy. 

But Fenris grew desperate and by the day of Hawke's swearing in at the Senate, his thoughts were near consumed with lust. Perhaps if he just asked her if could pleasure himself. That hardly counted as succumbing to her. She would probably be so relieved that the ceremony was over that she would be delighted to let him enjoy himself. Maybe she would even want him out of the way to celebrate with a lover more to her taste. The thought of that both sickened him and thrilled him, fantasying about touching himself while hearing her moaning through the wall. 

No. He needed to put it aside. She needed him today, more than ever before. Hawke had an official translator for her today but she trusted Fenris to verify what he said. And that was the least of her worries with a hundred eyes on her, judging her, waiting for her to slip up and reveal her vulnerability. 

But Hawke did extraordinarily well, no doubt through her coaching by Magister Tilani. Fenris was impressed but hearing her speak Tevene painted her in a different light. It should not have made a difference, but it did. There was a danger in her words that he had not heard before, a power that made him uneasy. He had known her less than a week. There could be depths of her that were darker than he had witnessed so far.

A reception was held for her at Magister Tilani's estate. Fenris refused to leave Hawke's side, both as protection but as a quiet source of information. Who each person was, what dealings they had with Danarius, and their political leanings. 

At one point Hawke said to him in Common, "You're very good at this, you know. You should be the one in politics, not me."

Fenris held back a chuckle. The image of him on the Senate floor was more than a little absurd. Hopefully she would learn enough to keep herself alive for a little while longer. Besides her previous relationship to Magister Tilani, Hawke had made no friends in the Magisterium but had charmed one or two of the lower Senate. Not enough to have much sway but at least she had a few people who would not actively try to kill her. 

Still, Hawke took his advice well. She held the same wine glass all night, taking only sips but having Fenris occasionally refill it for her. She spoke to the right people and even laughed at the right times, despite her Tevene not being strong enough to get the joke. She was charming, even with her limited language. He expected her to put on a facade with them but she mostly acted the same way she did with anyone else. She was intelligent, yes, but she was clever too and Fenris did not often see a person who was both. She said nothing that gave her revolutionary idealism away but she also said nothing that committed her to anything she didn't believe in. 

Hawke left near the end of the party, giving a small amount of time for gossip about her but most would be too drunk to say anything intelligible. They took a carriage home and Fenris asked for the chambermaids to bring Hawke a late dinner. Hawke protested, saying she could cook for herself, but she was quickly shushed by Loni and Lori, the latter setting up a bath for her while the other fetched food. 

Fenris took his own dinner in the kitchens while the chef asked him about the ceremony. Fenris was a little surprised as he had spoken so little to her over the years that he did not even know her name. But he shared a condensed version of the evening while the woman chuckled and asked about various members of the elite that Fenris was shocked she knew anything about. Once she was satisfied that he had eaten enough, Fenris went back to Hawke's bedchambers. 

Hawke was still in the bath but she was covered in so many soap bubbles it was hard to tell she was even in the basin. Hawke called for Fenris to come in and to share a glass of wine with her. He did so but he sat a distance away. Close enough to clink glasses but not close enough for him to see any uncovered skin. It should have been enough to cool his blood but he had been half hard for four days straight. Anything was enough to send him into a dark corner to rub himself raw, even knowing it would only worsen the ache. 

"I know I'm being rude," Hawke said, "but I'm just not getting out of this thing. In fact, I may live in it for the rest of my days. I'll send a page to fill my seat at the Senate. I'm sure they'll be just as effective as I am."

Fenris smirked. "I doubt that, Mistress." 

Hawke shifted in the tub, resting her crossed arms against the brim and resting her chin upon them. "Tell me honestly. What did they say about me? I know I heard someone making a joke about me cleaning my own kitchen."

Fenris admitted, "Your reputation has become well known already, despite how well you carried yourself in the Senate. You are a radical, but most think you are mostly naive and will settle down in time. I did hear already of one man, quite your elder, looking into your bloodline to see if it would be worth attempting to sire a child on you since perhaps it would settle you down." 

Hawke wrinkled her nose. "Ew."

Fenris chuckled, "I had much the same reaction."

Hawke sighed. "I want to say it was better back home but it's all the same. You have to say one thing in public and another in private to get what you want done. I hate it. I was never any good at it. But I guess I can't go back now. People know who I am. I can't just hide away in a Darktown clinic and work myself into an honest grave. I'm stuck here, aren't I?"

Fenris admitted, "I do not know."

Hawke shifted back, burying herself into the bubbles until her face was barely visible. Fenris cleared his throat, trying to work himself up to asking for what he needed. He couldn't take this much more. He had hardly gotten through the day as it was. He needed to stay focus and if that meant relenting to her a little, then that was what he had to do.

"Mistress," Fenris began, "there is something I must ask of you."

"Of course, anything." 

Fenris tried to keep his tone even. "We spoke before about my duties to Danarius. About fulfilling his needs. I find that without...taking part in those activities, that I am often distracted. As you do not wish to bed me, I must ask your permission so I may tend to my own needs myself, in order to best serve you, Mistress."

Hawke rose from her tub slightly, bubbles stuck in her hair. "Fenris, I don't mean to embarrass you, but I just want to make sure we're on the same page here. You're asking me if you can masturbate, right?"

Fenris felt the urge to dig himself a hole and die in it. "Yes, Mistress."

Hawke bit her lips as if to hide a smile. "Of course. Um, please, go enjoy yourself. I'm sorry that I didn't know that I had to - but of course. Your body is your own."

Fenris rose to his feet slowly, fighting the urge to bolt from the room. "Thank you, Mistress. Please enjoy your bath."

Fenris went into his adjoining room and shut the door. He knew that she could hear him and he should have felt shame at that but he was already so humiliated that it no longer mattered to him. Whatever spell Danarius had placed on him must be satisfied now. He had submitted to Hawke, she had given him permission. A few strokes and this would be over. 

Fenris laid on the cot and shuffled his trousers down just low enough to free his cock. He made a fist with one hand and bit down on it as the other hand fiercely rubbed his cock. He didn't have to fantasize anything beyond the idea of finally, finally climaxing. It was worth giving that power to her, it was worth it, just as long as the pain finally stopped. 

Fenris continued his frenzy for a nearly an hour, tears streaming down his face, his sobs covered by his white knuckled hand. He had thought...what a fool he had been. Hawke was tormenting him, surely, forcing him beyond his calm composure to down right begging and pleading. 

His hand slipped and a sob escaped him. He covered his mouth with both hands, trembling. He had thought she was different. He thought she meant to free him, not bind him to her in a way he could never escape. 

There was a quiet knock at his door and Hawke's voice softly calling his name. Fenris froze. She had waited for his breaking point. How cruel to let him torture himself for her so she had nothing to do but accept his surrender. He meant to snap at her, to tell her in no uncertain terms that she could not have him, but all he could manage was a pained whimper.

Hawke warned, "I'm going to open the door, Fenris."

He did not have the strength to tell her to leave so he did nothing to stop her. He looked up at her and he saw sincerity in her worried eyes. He hated it. He wanted to yell at her to go, to get out, but instead he started to cry. 

"You promised," Fenris whispered. "You promised you would never hurt me."

Hawke was not a large woman but she was strong enough to pick him up and carry him over to her bed. She washed his face with a warm cloth while he managed to tell her what Hadriana had said to him. Hawke kissed his forehead, her lips like fire against his skin, and she promised him she would return in a moment. 

Hawke was not gone long though it felt like a hundred years. She returned with a brown jar and a glass of water. She encouraged him to sit up and drink it slowly. He did so, watching her in terror. Would she leave him like this? Or would she have her way with him? She would not be as cruel as Hadriana, he knew. She was kind. She surely had not meant to do this to him. She had promised him. 

Once Fenris had drunk, Hawke sat on the edge of the bed and took his shaking hands in hers. Her touch only enflamed him further but he could not bear to let go.

Hawke said softly, "Fenris, I do not know what is causing this but I can see that you are in a lot of pain. I will help you through this tonight but then in the morning we will figure out how to undo whatever this is. I don't want to take advantage of you and I don't want to hurt you. So you tell me what you need and I'll try my best to give it to you. Will this work for you?" 

Fenris nodded, whimpering. Hawke kissed his forehead before helping him out of his clothes. Fenris lay on his side and Hawke mirrored him, her bathrobe falling just slightly open, showing the perfect hollow of her throat. Her dark brown skin was almost aglow from the oils in her bath and her braided but still damp hair retained the scent of sandalwood soap. 

Hawke turned to retrieve the jar behind her, the movement revealing more of her chest and the soft curve of her breast. She took off the lid and dipped her fingers into a clear salve. She rubbed it between her fingers to warm it before brushing it against his palm. It felt like warm water but clung to his skin like oil. 

"I'd like to put this on you to help with the chafing," Hawke explained. "Does it feel all right?"

Fenris agreed eagerly. "Please, please touch me."

Hawke held him close, her hand cradling his head. Her forehead pressed against his, the lyrium embedded there warming at her touch. 

"Just hold on to me," she murmured. "I'll take care of you."

Fenris put his arms around her neck and closed his eyes. She slicked her hand with the salve before reaching between them and ever so gently touching his cock. He gasped as she lightly stroked him, her hand smooth against his skin. 

"Is this okay?" She asked.

Fenris could barely speak, his breath so tight in his throat. He managed a low affirmation and buried his face in her shoulder. He felt an urge to kiss her skin, her neck, her collarbone, whatever he could touch. But he didn't want to upset her. He was already being so careless with her, so intimate when she didn't want him. 

Hawke stroked him a little tighter and when his breath caught she relaxed her grip. She held him, one arm around his shoulders, one between them as she slowly and tenderly stroked him. Fenris thrust into her hand and she quickened her motions, coaxing him closer to the edge. 

She whispered, "Maker, you are so sweet for me." 

Fenris hated how much he loved her words. He was a weapon. He wasn't supposed to be treated like this. He was supposed to be mounted or ridden and put aside once his master had enough of him. His pleasure, if ever had, was used against him. Made a joke. Made a punishment. Forced out of him. He wasn't supposed to be praised for this. He wasn't sweet. He was nothing more than a sword - or a sheath, when so desired to be. 

Yet he tightened his hold on her, wrapping his arms around her. He wanted to be close to her, he wanted her skin against his. He wanted her mouth on his but more than this he wanted to hear her voice. 

Hawke brushed her nose against his. "I'm sorry this is happening to you, sweetheart. I'll take care of you. I'll give you everything you need. You're safe with me." 

Fenris gripped her upper arms, surprisingly muscular for a mage, and let desperately thrust into her fist. He couldn't help but groan as he chased his finish. Not the quiet grunt he expected of himself, but a near whine. Needy. Pathetic. But she seemed pleased and praised him, kissing his cheek as he spilled into her fingers. 

The relief was...beyond words. He felt almost drunk on it. The painful ache was gone and now he felt as if he could float away. Nothing held him to this earth but her body wrapped around his. 

"Are you okay?" Hawke asked softly.

"Better," Fenris murmured. "Much better."

Hawke kissed his forehead. "I'll be right back."

She was gone for a mere moment before returning with a wet cloth. She wiped him clean before helping him dress into the soft linen pants and shirt she herself wore to bed. Fenris closed his eyes as she slipped into a long nightshirt and only opened them when she brought the blankets around them both. 

Fenris protested halfheartedly, "No, I should not stay. It is improper."

Hawke said softly, "You've been riding high on adrenaline for nearly a week. I don't want you to be alone when you drop. If you're uncomfortable, we don't have to, but I think it would be best if you stayed."

Fenris didn't argue and when she wrapped an arm around him, he found himself nuzzling into her. Hawke ran her fingers through his hair and he shivered, his body still sensitive. He looked into her brown eyes and while he knew he should be afraid of her, it was hard to see anything but kindness. There had to be something more, something sinister, something selfish. 

Fenris asked quietly, "Why did you really come to Tevinter, Mistress?"

Hawke explained, "There was a boy, a young mage, who needed to leave Kirkwall to find a teacher who could help him. The only other option was making him Tranquil or to kill him. So there was no other choice. He had to come here."

"But you came with him."

"I did," Hawke agreed. "I promised his mother I would." 

"You risked your life for a promise?" Fenris asked.

"It sounds silly when you say it like that, but I guess so. When I joined the Underground, I made a promise. I was going to keep fighting for freedom until there was nothing left to fight for. Yet here I am while my fellow mages suffer and die. I should be back at the clinic. I should be working. Not...not here." 

"I would think that Tevinter would be a much better alternative for a mage than the Free Marches," Fenris said. "You will find your freedom here. You are now one of the elites of the city, if not the country. Is this not what you were fighting for?"

Hawke's face fell. "Of course not. This isn't freedom, Fenris. My position in this society is not because of any merit of mine. Your society is built upon slavery and the subjugation of the masses in order for a privileged few to live in luxury. Magic here may not be considered a curse, but it is not a random phenomenon. It is finely honed through selected breeding and held as a tool over those under foot as something that perhaps will be their ticket out of poverty. I did not join the Underground because I felt mistreated as a mage. I joined because I could not sit by and watch others suffer while I lived in ignorance. That has not changed. The struggle looks different, but it is all the same fight."

For a moment, Fenris could see that she sincerely believed her words. Perhaps that was worse than her manipulating him. Power corrupted everything. Magic corrupted everything. Fenris would be a fool to believe otherwise, even when that idealism wore such a beautiful face. 

"Yours will be a powerful voice in the Senate, Mistress," Fenris said softly. "Tevinter is better for having your perspective. But you might find that it changes the longer you are among us. There are persuasive arguments against your beliefs. It would be understandable if your opinions changed somewhat. You might not survive long enough to live your ideals otherwise."

Hawke murmured, "I don't want to talk about this right now, Fenris."

It was all Fenris wanted to talk about. He wanted her to admit the truth. He wanted her to show him who she really was. 

Fenris spent the night in her bed but woke alone. It was still early and he heard no one else awake in the estate. He went down to the library and saw Hawke in an armchair, a stack of books by her feet, writing furiously in her notebook. 

Fenris lingered by the door for a moment before leaving her alone to work.


	4. Chapter 4

Hawke, by nature, did not believe in a no-win scenario. She had a task at hand. Cure whatever magic had been done to Fenris without striking a deal with Hadriana. She had Danarius' library and all of his research. She had all the pieces. She just had to put them together. And soon. She wasn't sure how long it would be before Fenris' condition would worsen again and she had already stepped over the line once to help him. She was his owner, even if she didn't want to be, and she had power over him that he couldn't say no to. 

Hawke had no idea how long she had been working until her cook gently propped her up from her stoop over the table and sat a bowl of porridge in front of her. Patricia signaled that Hawke was to eat and Hawke did so reluctantly as Patricia brought her thick black tea with honey, slices of plum, and a little baked square that tasted like sweetened sesame paste. Patricia frowned at her in a matronly but kind way until Hawke ate enough to her satisfaction.

Patricia asked her something in Tevene and it took a few tries before Hawke realized she was asking if Fenris had eaten. Hawke shrugged apologetically. She hadn't seen him since she had snuck out of bed hours beforehand. Hopefully he was getting some well-deserved rest.

Patricia scowled and Hawke got the sense she was going off to find him. She smiled to herself before pushing away the rest of her meal and getting back to her studies. It felt like mere minutes but it was likely several hours before she heard the children running into the room calling for her.

Hawke picked up the younger girl while the other said something excitedly about a man with a mustache. Hawke went out towards the front hall where Fenris stood stoically by the door, awaiting her command. She gave him a nod before opening the door and quite quickly a young man - who indeed did have a mustache - entered with a jovial smile, a stack of books, a satchel over his back, and a small mabari puppy in the crook of his arm. He handed a letter to Hawke before putting the puppy down for the girls to play with.

Hawke opened the letter to reveal Maevaris' perfectly curved handwriting. 

_Adaia,_

_I have sent to you one of my dearest orchids for you to care for. He is yours to keep for as long as he proves himself to be pleasant company and then yours to return to my guest suite until his father decides to take him in once again. I think you will find that he is an excellent consultant on how one can best offend Tevinter society, but I will leave it to you to teach him about international investing which I have taught him only a little of._

_With great love,  
Mae _

_P.S. A guest last night abandoned a recent and ill-considered purchase and requested that I find a use for it. I thought that you might be able to give a fellow kinsman a good home._

Hawke folded the letter and put it in her pocket. The young man was still chattering away to Fenris who only looked at him with quiet disdain. Hawke interrupted, offering her hand to shake. He took it softly, in the way that most Tevinter men did when greeting a much higher ranked man. 

"Magister Hawke, I doubt that you remember meeting me at Magister Tilani's party last night. My name is Dorian Pavus."

Hawke apologized, "Sorry I don't, but last night was a bit of a blur. Please, just call me Hawke, everyone does. I'm not sure exactly what Mae has told you about my situation, but I really do not have space for a visitor."

"Of course not," Dorian chuckled. "I am not here to be simply a house guest. But that can be all discussed in a few moments. Would you mind if I refreshed myself before we spoke?"

"Of course," Hawke replied, still very much confused. "The water closet is just down the hall."

"Salon."

"Excuse me?" Hawke asked.

Dorian offered, "In Tevinter it is called the Salon."

Hawke exchanged a glance with Fenris who seemed to be growing more impatient. Dorian went off to wash and Fenris went to Hawke's side. 

"It is not wise for him to be here, Mistress," Fenris advised in quiet, low Common. "Master Dorian is not a man welcomed in many a Magister's home. Even his father's." 

"Why?" Hawke asked.

"That will make itself apparent soon enough. I would ask that you keep me with you to chaperone your visit with him, Mistress. I do not wish you to be alone with him."

Hawke tried to hide her smile. "Fenris, he's just a man. And barely that. If he was twenty-two, I'd be shocked. But you are always welcome to go anywhere I go."

Fenris' stance eased a little. "Very well, Mistress."

Once Dorian was refreshed, he joined the pair of them in Hawke's library. Dorian found the most comfortable armchair and flopped down on it. Hawke sat across from him, Fenris standing just behind her, despite her protest that he should sit. 

Dorian chuckled. "If the man wants to stand, let him stand. I expect he only wants to be more easily able to throttle me if need be. I've seen him do much worse at parties."

Hawke asked tiredly, "Why are you here, Dorian?"

"No, I am here to be...you in Ferelden have an expression...your beard. That was the term. Quite endearing. Our darling Mae thought that I would be able to assist your image in Tevinter. You will need an escort to parties, someone who understands all the little signals that you'll miss. I can give some advice and insight about all the various nobility you'll be introduced to. Posing as your paramour I can deflect suitors and if you choose me as an apprentice, I can block others attempting to take Hadriana's position in your life. I imagine as well that you could use my help in deciphering his research, which you might need in regards to our friend over there. You need someone you can trust and well frankly you shouldn't trust anyone, I'm a better bet than most." 

"And you have no interest in being my paramour?" Hawke asked skeptically.

Dorian laughed. "Dear Maker, no. I mean no offense, of course. You are a very lovely lady. But I will be honest and say that I prefer men. That is not something I say as common knowledge but as something between friends. I have heard a rumour that you have dabbled in romance with the fairer sex from time to time yourself. I imagine that my own leanings will not bother you."

Hawke smiled. "No, certainly they do not. So I would be helping protect you as well then? Won't people be scandalized by my lover living with me?"

Dorian scoffed. "They're scandalized by everything, but this is moral acceptable and is much better for my own reputation."

Hawke turned to Fenris and asked in Common, "What do you think?"

Fenris replied, "It is a wise proposition, Mistress. You could do worse than accept. But do not trust him. You cannot trust any of them to do anything but help themselves. His motive is selfish enough that it can be accepted as true. For now. But he is correct. If he attempts to hurt you, I will do worse than throttle him." 

Dorian looked between the two of them. "Is that a yes?"

Hawke agreed, "It is."

"Splendid. I'll go and unpack. I'll send for some more things from home, if you do not mind. I want to make sure I am as fashionable as possible on the arm of a Magister." 

_______________________________

Fenris hated Dorian. No, perhaps not hate. He had experienced true hatred before. But he did not like how quickly he had ingratiated himself into the household. The girls loved him for bringing him a puppy, the elder servants were amused by his blatant and over the top flirting, and the younger two by his much more sincere interest. If the former pleasure slave and the gardener ended up in a fistfight over Dorian, Fenris would not have been surprised. He thought it more likely that they'd both end up in his bed at the same time. 

Hawke seemed mostly immune to his charms but she trusted him too quickly. By the second afternoon pouring over Danarius' research, the two worked together as if they had been master and apprentice for years. Fenris stood by - he refused to sit now in Dorian's presence - and occasionally spoke if he was asked a question. That happened less and less often. There was little he could offer. He remembered nothing of the procedure and while he could give a description of what his powers felt like, he had no explanation of how they worked. He found that he stood further and further away from them until he had settled at a post near the door where he could hear the conversation if need be but could mostly tune out.

Fenris hated how vulnerable she was. She was trusting Dorian to properly translate Danarius' hastily scrawled Tevene. Fenris so far had been able to confirm what others had said to her but in this he could offer nothing. He could not read. Dorian could have been telling her a whole host of lies and Fenris could not tell Hawke anything to the contrary. 

Fenris was rarely alone with Hawke - he was not sure which of them was orchestrating this or if they both were. It had only been two nights since Hawke had assisted him and she was quite busy. The ache, for the most part, was manageable. Knowing that she had helped him before and would likely help him again both eased his spirits and tensed him. There could be relief if he really needed it but it came at a cost. 

On the third night, Hawke was expected at another party. On her first evening out with Dorian, Hawke had dressed traditionally Tevene with silks and a low neckline. Her bust was more ample than was in fashion and she still had a look of the Free Marches in her gaze. It suited her in theory. Fenris thought she looked beautiful. But she still looked a stranger, even on Dorian's arm. 

Fenris did not leave her side, no matter what company she kept. He did not speak in the presence of others except when Hawke needed something interpreted. Dorian was often elsewhere, acting still the fool of the party that Fenris had seen before. Danarius had thought him appealing, someone who could be an excellent lover once bridled and trained properly. Danarius had thought that of many young mages. Fenris had seen it happen before. Fenris had taken part of it before.

Fenris was lost in his own thoughts and Hawke risked touching his wrist, bringing him back to her. She smiled at him softly and his heart eased a little. She was not Danarius. He was not sure if she was capable of being him, even if it would have kept her alive a little longer.

She asked in Common, "Are you alright?"

Fenris simply nodded. She waited for a further response but at receiving none, went back to the conversation she had been apart of. 

A young man, closer to Dorian's age and temperament than Hawke's, chuckled. "I love your accent, Magister. It's just darling. Did you teach your slave a trade language for a party trick or did dear Danarius have a more cunning tongue than I gave him credit for?"

Hawke's expression changed, her softness leaving her face. "Fenris has been a great help to me in my time here. I find that there are few who speak my native language and it appears to be a difficult task for many born of the higher classes of Tevinter. It seems like a lack in the educational system for trade languages to go untaught. Do you not agree, Senator Lechile?"

"What slaves say to each other outside my earshot is nothing of my concern and I imagine it cannot be terribly interesting. It's not as if there can be great intellectual debate among them and they know their place. I'm not worried about their common gossip and it's not as if the trade languages exactly offer the vocabulary needed for poetry or song. You must have found this in learning Tevene, Magister. There can be a much broader conversation with our tongue than the one you spoke before you came here."

"Tevene is my fifth language," Hawke informed him coolly, "and I must admit that while modern Tevene is not without its charms, the ancient version used in the Senate is quite an archaic language that has not developed in a way that makes it at all useful beyond the stilted rhetoric of the equally archaic political discourse for which it is most used. Perhaps if the Senate used a more adaptable language such as the more contemporary and accessible version spoken by the common people then it would be able to generate more fruitful and relevant discussion."

Lechile raised an eyebrow. "You would have us speak as the lower classes for the sake of reform? Or for your own lack of mastering the syllables of your betters? Would you have as speak as slaves as well as freeing them?"

Hawke's hand, consciously or not, hardened into a fist. "I do not know if the Senate is capable of reform, even if it so clearly needs it if it will allow such pompous assess to dictate the future of an entire nation while not having the capability for the past imperfect tense." 

As if by magic, Dorian appeared at Hawke's side and made some sort of joke about his Master's tendency to get into fights when tipsy. He swept her off to the dance floor, leaving Fenris to face the quite irritated Lechile. Lechile scowled and went off to gossip about Hawke to the group of partiers nearby. 

Fenris moved to another wall to better see Hawke and Dorian dancing. He was clearly lecturing her and she hung her head, not unlike the mabari puppy when Loni lectured it about relieving itself in the house. Fenris thought that Hawke had done well all night until then, though he couldn't imagine why language was what had finally set her off. 

Fenris heard a familiar laugh and glanced across the room to see Hadriana, now deep in conversation with the scorned Lechile. She noticed Fenris and smirked. Fenris felt a touch of panic but he put it aside. She wouldn't dare come to him now and Hawke would return from her dance once Dorian had finished telling her everything she had done wrong. Perhaps Hawke would want to leave then regardless and then Fenris would not have to interact with Hadriana at all. 

Yet Hawke remained with Dorian as another song began and Hadriana excused herself and walked towards Fenris. Fenris looked back to Hawke but Dorian was not yet finished with his lecture and she did not seem to notice Fenris or his distress.

Hadriana made it to his side and she brushed her fingers against his thigh as she leaned in to speak to him. Fenris shivered and though he knew he could push her away, he was still keenly aware that she still owned him. He was not solely Hawke's, no matter if she had the greater share of Danarius' "intellectual property."

"You seem to still be in your senses," Hadriana murmured. "So she has taken my advice and bedded you after all. How was she? Did she make you scream like I used to? Did she make you cry?"

Fenris managed to whisper, "Please leave."

"Please leave, _Mistress_. You are still mine, Fenris. And soon, I will be the only one who owns you. I've heard three threats against her life already tonight, dear wolf. It is a matter of days before one of them comes to fruition. You can't stop the entire Senate. She will die and then you will never leave my sight again."

Fenris replied quietly but firmly, "I would die before I let that happen."

Hadriana laughed. "You care about her? Foolish little puppy. Do you think she gives a damn about you?"

Fenris tried to speak but was interrupted by Hawke's sudden appearance and even more blunt fist swinging out and breaking Hadriana's nose. The mage stepped back in shock, holding her hand out to try to prevent blood spilling onto her dress. Hawke stepped fully in front of Fenris, despite Fenris attempting to do the same for her. 

Hawke was so angry that she slipped into Common, her threat understood by no one but Fenris. "You speak to him again and I'll kill you with my bare hands. Get the shit out of my sight before I punch your nose back into place."

Dorian had run over by this point but before he could attempt to smooth over the situation, Hawke barked at him to get them a carriage home. 

Hawke took Fenris outside to the street, asking a half dozen questions at once but Fenris was too shaken to register any of them never mind respond. Once the carriage arrived, Dorian insisted he would return later after he talked Hadriana down. Hawke unwillingly accepted this before loading her and Fenris into the cab of the carriage.

She sat across from him, her head in her hands. 

"You needn't have done that, Mistress," Fenris said softly. "She has the same rights to me as you do. You have put yourself at risk when it was unnecessary."

Hawke looked up at him, her eyes full of silent tears. Before he could consider it fully, he sat beside her and brought her in to lean against his chest. Hawke snuggled into him, closing her eyes.

"I'm sorry if I made it worse for you," Hawke murmured. "I just wanted to keep you safe. You're my responsibility. I should never have brought you with me. I've relied so much on you that I didn't even think that I was putting you at risk. I'm so sorry, Fenris. I messed up. I should have let you stay at home. I should have protected you."

"You are my responsibility too," Fenris whispered. "I would never forgive myself if you came to harm. You should not have done it, Hawke, but I am...grateful."

Hawke looked up at him. "You've never called me that before."

Fenris managed a weak smile. "You've never broken someone's nose for me before."

Hawke smiled in return and rested against him for the rest of the ride home.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you very patient people! I've been in a bit of a writer's block so we'll just have to cross our fingers on me finishing this in the next little while

Hawke ate a late dinner in the kitchen with Fenris while Patricia asked the pair questions about the party. 

Fenris ate near silently but he smiled at Patricia when she asked him about a Lord or someone else important. He seemed almost pleased to give her a response before glancing at Hawke shyly. Their eyes met and Hawke felt almost a little giddy. It was silly, of course. Patricia would likely find out that Hawke had yelled at a senator and broken the nose of Danarius' apprentice. But Hawke was enjoying her shared secret with her bodyguard and the quiet domestic scene before her. 

It could be like this, she thought. Her little household. If Patricia and the twins wanted to stay after they were freed, Hawke would make sure they were well taken care of in their old age. She'd do more and more of the housework. Fenris would learn how to relax a little, she hoped. Maybe he would join her in the garden. Reul and Astasia might still be living with them for a time, especially if Astasia wanted to continue their unofficial apprenticeship with Hawke. Or maybe Fenris could retire to the library and spend the rest of his days happily reading. Or maybe he'd take up fencing. Anything he wanted. Just as long as he smiled like that.

Her bruised knuckles gave a little throb, as if reminding her that she could heal them at any point instead of just daydreaming. But she sort of liked the ache. It was a good reminder not to do anything that brash again but it felt a little like a victory. She had protected Fenris. She had done her duty to one of her charges and he had rewarded her by calling her by her name. 

Hawke needed to talk to him about his condition. He hadn't come back to her since that night but it had only been a few days. He was probably okay for now but she didn't want him to be in that much pain again before he asked for help. Hawke wasn't sure how much he listened in as she had worked with Dorian. She wanted him to be involved but he had continuously pulled away from any attempt to bring him in. Hawke didn't want to do anything without his informed consent. So she needed to talk to him, even if she suspected he didn't want to talk to her about the situation. 

_____________________________________

After they ate, Hawke asked him to stay with her in her room for a while. He agreed and even sat in front of the fireplace with her, both drinking a glass of wine. It was reckless of him. He felt a little drunk and giddy as it was already. Hawke had done something incredibly foolish but she had done it for him. What long game could she be possibly playing with him that she would risk her reputation to play it?

They did not speak for a time and eventually Fenris found the courage to ask what was on her mind.

Hawke sighed and put her glass down. "I...I think we need to discuss what happened the other night. I think that was what needed to happen, I don't see another way it could have. I just wanted to make sure you felt...I guess as well as one can feel considering the circumstances.” 

Fenris agreed, "You aided me greatly, Mistress. You did nothing wrong."

Hawke said softly, "There is a difference between doing what has to be done and doing the right thing, Fenris. I technically own you. In any other circumstances, I wouldn't be able to look myself in the mirror ever again."

Fenris wanted to defend her but he saw that there was nothing he could say that would ease her mind. He sensed as well that there was more to her speech and he didn't want to interrupt when it had clearly been difficult for her to begin.

Hawke continued, "Tonight with Hadriana...I panicked. I know what she's done to you, if only a little of it. I didn't want...I don't want you to be at risk of her hurting you but I don't want you to have to depend on me either. You don't belong to me. I want you to belong to yourself. So I need to fix the curse that Danarius put on you and I don't think I can do it on my own. I can't read Tevene well enough and I can't go to Hadriana for help - especially now. I don't want to pressure you but I could really use your help translating Danarius’ work."

"I cannot," Fenris admitted, looking away from her. "I cannot read."

Hawke sighed. "I was worried that might be the case. If that's so...I think I need to tell Dorian what's happening. He can help figure out-"

Fenris was not sure what happened in his heart that made him snap but suddenly he was kneeling on the floor in front of her, shaking and trembling. 

"I do not want him to know," Fenris pleaded. "I do not want him to make me submit to him. I do not want to lie with him. If you wish to play the part of host, I will do what you ask, but please, Mistress, please do not ask this of me."

Hawke tilted his face up so their eyes met. Her deep brown eyes had such tender sadness in them that Fenris felt remorse for his outburst. How could he think a thing of her? How could he have disappointed her so? 

Hawke swore, "I would never let him touch you if you didn't want him to. I would never, ever do that to you. I promise, Fenris. I will do everything in my power to keep you from harm. I promise."

Fenris believed her, but worse he had the urge to rise and to kiss her. Not as a slave showing favour to his Master but as a man with his beloved. How did she have such a hold on him? How could just the touch of her fingers remove every other thought but those of her?

Hawke asked, "Do you need me to help you relax tonight?"

Fenris could go another few days, surely, but he knew that the pain would only increase as time went on. He was only beginning to feel the ache but the thought of her touching him now, the thought of her hands on him...

He felt ashamed how quickly he was growing hard but at least it made the decision for him. He had already debased himself. Let him at least find peace in his indignity. 

Fenris stood, taking her hands in his to guide her to her feet as well. She cupped his face in her hands before resting her forehead against his.

"Let me take care of you," she murmured. "Please."

Fenris was helpless to do anything but agree. She slowly undressed him, patiently, tenderly, her eyes rarely leaving his. He touched her cheek unconsciously and before he could chastise himself, she pressed her hand on his. They both stopped, him nearly bare before her and she still completely dressed. Yet it was the first time that he felt as if she might be afraid of him. 

“How do you want to be?” Hawke asked gently.

Fenris tried to speak but no words could come to him. 

Hawke suggested, “Maybe it’s enough if I hold you while you touch yourself. Maybe you just need skin contact. Do you want to try?”

Fenris nodded and she brought them into bed. Fenris lay on his side, facing away from her. He begun to stroke himself and Hawke lay beside him, curling her body around his. She pressed her cheek against his bare shoulder and before wrapping one arm around to rest on his heart and the other protectively around his hip. 

He knew quickly it wouldn’t be enough but he wanted this so badly to work. After a time, Hawke brushed her fingers against his hardened nipple and he shivered. She toyed with it and he jerked harder, but still he grew no closer.

Hawke asked him something in Common but he didn’t understand. She moved her hand from his hip to cup his ass. She suggested it again and from context he realized she was offering to put her fingers inside of him. Fenris was a little shocked and he stopped what he was doing. He looked over his shoulder at her and she started to apologize, only a hint of a blush on her dark skin.

Fenris was confused. It was nothing that had not been done to him before. It was simply that it had been a gesture of utility, to open him up. As far as he knew, she had no cock to insert into him. But he trusted her and he nodded.

Fenris returned to his initial position, her one arm still around him as she leaned to grab the jar of salve again. She kissed the back of his neck and his cock throbbed at the feel of her lips on his skin. He touched himself again, slowly this time, raising his leg to better accommodate Hawke. The pads of her fingers teased his rim, the salve warm against him. He relaxed to her touch, preparing for the intrusion that would hopefully put him out of his misery. 

When she slid her fingers into him, it was a revelation. What had been a source of pain and suffering for him in the past was instead soft and gentle. Instead of the hard thrusts of an uncaring cock, Hawke's fingers stroked him tenderly. Instead of growing oversensitive and aching, he found that swollen place inside of him enjoyed her touch and only added to his pleasure as he fisted his cock. 

"Is this okay?" She asked.

Fenris whispered a yes. Her rhythm matched his, the sensation flowing through his belly. He loved her fingers rolling his nipple between them. He loved her fingers inside of him, coaxing him towards bliss. He loved her breath against his skin, only slightly caught, only ever so slightly quickening. She was so unfazed, even as he fell apart under her care. 

Fenris wanted to kiss her so badly he felt like he couldn’t breathe. He wanted...he wanted...

Fenris came hard, his grip tightening on his cock, his thighs shaking. He jerked forward, thrusting into his hand, and she held him close, her other arm still wrapped protectively around his chest while she fingered him hard. He spilled onto the sheets, a deep steady gush that left him feeling as if he were being rung dry. When he finally returned to his senses, he looked over his shoulder at Hawke. 

“Oh sweetheart,” she murmured, wiping away his tears with her thumb. “Are you alright?” 

Fenris wanted to assure her that he was but he broke into sobs. Hawke cradled him as he tried to say that she had done nothing wrong, that there was something broken in him, but he had no words to explain any of it. 

So instead he kissed her. 

Hawke stilled at first before kissing him back, running her clean hand through his hair. Fenris kissed her harder, rolling her beneath him. She looked up at him, tears on her own face. 

“Thank you,” he whispered. “Thank you, Hawke.”

Hawke promised, “I’m going to fix this. I’m going to make this right. I swear it.”

Fenris was in too much awe to do anything but believe her.  
_____________________________________

Hawke redoubled her efforts. The next four weeks, she studied Tevene for two hours each morning, was lectured by Dorian for another two hours on Tevinter society, and worked through her lunch and until dinner in studying Danarius' papers on a variety of topics. Mostly regarding the experiments on Fenris, but she discovered a great deal of other information. Offshore bank accounts that could be plundered for untracked funds to the Mage Underground. Bureaucratic loopholes. Exploitable material on other Magisters and Senators. Anything she found useful she sent to Anders by cypher and the rest she kept to use to her own advantage. Dorian helped a fair bit but she often sent him off to be useful in assisting her staff around the household. He had grumbled about this almost every day of not being used to his full potential. But Maevaris had left him to Hawke's care and Hawke thought that if he really wanted to be a revolutionary, he needed to learn how to wash his own dishes first.

Hawke refused now to go to parties except for small gatherings in her own home by the few Senators who seemed interested in her ideas. Most of them were scared off after being forced to eat at the same table with Hawke's servants and to have their own accompanying slaves be treated as equal guests. But some stayed and there were a handful of people who now regularly popped over for dinner unexpectedly to ask for Hawke's perspective on a variety of matters. Or to flirt with Dorian. But Hawke didn't mind that last part. If Dorian was to have an affair, she wanted it to be with someone who said please and thank you to her staff.

Her early evenings were typically devoted to teaching, either by instructing Astasia in herbal arts, reviewing the children's progress with their tutor, or mentoring one of the wayward nobility who had come for dinner and hadn't left. When it grew late, Fenris would put his hand on her shoulder, and she would smile at him, grateful for the reminder that it was time to rest. It was not as if she never noticed his constant presence at her side, but the energy between them would shift then. He was putting aside his duties for the day so it was time for her to put aside hers.

They would go into Hawke's room, change into their soft clothes, and sit together on the settee by the unlit fire. Fenris would practice reading to Hawke, her gently correcting him when need be. Then at some point one of them would sit by the other and touch the other lightly. A hand on a shoulder, a thigh, even a cheek. Then Hawke would bring Fenris to bed and pleasure him, usually with her hands, but once by teasing his nipples with her tongue. She had been especially proud of that one. Hawke more and more found herself daydreaming about what she would do with him that evening. She was trying to keep it innovative and it was delightful learning what Fenris liked. If it was all about him, she wanted to do it to the best of her ability. 

For the first week, Fenris would stay in bed with her until she fell asleep and then make his way to the cot in the other room. But then more and more often she woke to him resting beside her. She usually crept out to let him rest but one recent morning he had stirred and opened his eyes before she could do so. He sleepily brought her into his arms and fell back asleep. She didn't have the heart to wake him and lay on his chest for nearly an hour, listening to his easy steady beat of his heart. 

Their nights together had made such a difference. No longer in daily pain, Fenris smiled more, laughed more, and she had even caught him playing with the puppy. The household probably suspected they were sleeping together, even if they had the motives wrong. Dorian made a not so sly reference to it once in her presence and in retaliation she had him peel potatoes for a whole afternoon. 

The only thing that disrupted this routine were the weekly Senate meetings. Fenris was not able to attend these but would wait outside for her with the other bodyguards. Dorian was allowed to go as her apprentice and the two of them would make snide comments to each other to ease the boredom of it all. It was a terrible, evil system and fighting it should have felt more exhilarating but the bureaucracy of it all was enough to make any reformist start nodding off in their seat.

Dorian's Common was becoming quite good and it made for better conversation during these meetings, particularly the biweekly summit where both levels of the Senate would spend the day arguing with each other over the most mundane points. It was here, in the middle of a conversation about Magister Hanari's taste in shoes, that Hawke made a sudden and inexplicable breakthrough. She knew what was causing Fenris' suffering. She had no idea how to fix it, but she had figured it out.

Hawke whispered to herself, "It’s not a curse. It's the lyrium." 

"What is?"

Hawke glanced at the great hourglass showing the duration of the session. It would be at least two hours before the next recess, hours after that before the day was called to a close. It would be rude to leave now and there was potential she might miss something important, but there was nothing she could even fathom caring more about than she cared about this right now.

Hawke told Dorian to cover for her and she ran out to the lobby, grabbing Fenris. She called for a carriage, too excited to say anything to her bodyguard than “I have an idea.” 

_____________________________________

Fenris had seen Hawke in the midst of her work before, but he had never seen her anywhere near this manic as she paced around her library, pulling out her notebooks to find a particular diagram to show him. 

"It's tied to the lyrium," Hawke explained. "It's directly embedded into your nervous system. The first establishing node almost completely surrounds your vagus nerve.”

Hawke finally found what she was looking for and laid out the book on the table for him to view. It was a sketch of his body and he recognized some of the lines as being the patterns of his lyrium. Hawke pointed to another line, darkened to be bold, that began at the base of the skull. 

Hawke concluded, “That’s it right there. It's the major nerve running down your neck. It controls everything. Danarius essentially built in a kill switch. He could snap his fingers and you would starve to death because your stomach stopped churning or cause brain death by cutting off your oxygen. He designed it so he could kill or torture you a hundred different ways. And this is one of them. You can't orgasm unless you're directly touching a mage, particularly one with a strong healing ability. There is enough residual magic that the pressure on your vagus nerve eases. Otherwise, it's almost impossible for your body to orgasm. Do you understand?"

Fenris knew little about biology, but he understood what a kill switch was. Danarius had embedded a bomb into his neck and had been using it to control him. Danarius had made it impossible for him to experience pleasure without him. And he had probably hijacked it so Fenris would be forced to finish even when he didn't want to. Hadriana had done the same thing to him. Danarius had probably taught her how to.

Fenris felt like he was going to vomit and he stumbled to sit down. Hawke sat on the edge of the desk and took Fenris' hands in hers. She was not a large woman but just then he felt so small in her presence. She could hurt him. She could kill him. He was used to that, used to being a plaything, used to having every agency taken from him. He could rage against it, fight it. He could hate her. 

But he trusted her. 

He loved her. 

How much easier it would be if he didn't love her. 

Hawke swore, "I'm going to find a way to minimize the nodes, if not remove them. Without those choke points, you should be able to use your powers without restriction. No one will be able to control you. But it will take time and I will need help. This magic isn't like anything I've ever seen before. I know sharing this knowledge puts you at further risk, but I don't think we have a choice. I need my medical partner in the Underground. Can I reach out to him? I won't if you don't want me to."

A mage. A stranger. Hawke was going to bring this man to their home and then tell him how to kill him. 

Fenris whispered, "I don't want him to touch me." 

Hawke promised, "Then he won’t.”

Fenris bowed his head. Now that he knew the cause, he knew he couldn’t live with these nodes a minute longer than he had to. He would not let any mage have this power over him, not even Hawke. If it meant revealing the secret to one other, then he would have to risk it. 

Fenris agreed quietly, “Send for your friend.” 

Hawke kissed Fenris’ forehead and when he said nothing, she touched his shoulder and said that she would give him some space to process what she had said. 

Fenris sat there, examining the illustration of his body. His bones, his veins. All the mortal pieces of him that Danarius had bound to the lyrium. All that could be harmed or destroyed on a whim. That was true for any slave, he supposed, to have their body used for a purpose they did not choose. But to see it rendered so, to know what lay just beneath his skin…

Fenris’ body would never belong to himself. Danarius would always own him, even in death.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this chapter is so angsty and next chapter is so angsty but it will end happily I promise this to you! in this year of our Maker 2020, there will be no sad endings 
> 
> also the more I've written this, the more I've clearly written Hawke as being on the spectrum and literally did not notice until tonight. So there you all go. Have some accidental neurodiversity from your neurodiverse gal.
> 
> also also tagging that threesome was super hard and I feel like I should get a sticker for that

**cw: there's a loose threesome in here that includes both a woman and Dorian - they don't really interact, our beloved gay Dorian remains our beloved gay Dorian. Also there is a lot of discussion about power dynamics and consent and body autonomy - everyone is having a bad time emotionally and just trying to get through it the best they can**

As was Hawke’s way whenever she had her mind set on a project, she worked on little else. Twenty six hours after her discovery, she had eaten little, slept even less, and had barely talked to anyone who wasn’t Dorian. She had seen Fenris only once since her explanation and the entire time he refused to look her in the eye. Since then, she wasn’t entirely sure if he was avoiding her or she was avoiding him. She tried not to think about it too much or take it too personally. The sooner she had an answer, the sooner she could fix things and then everything would be alright.

But the longer she worked, the harder it was to focus. She kept thinking about Fenris. Would he still sleep in their bed without her? Was he in much pain? Surely she could just take a break and spend some time with him...or did he not want to see her again? Now that he knew the power she had over him. Maker, it was even worse than she thought it could be. He had been trusting her with his life and neither of them had even known it. She had been acting on instinct, telling herself she was trying to protect him. 

But Hawke could have just as easily hurt him. It was only because she hadn’t been interested in sex, because she was so focused on him, that she hadn’t accidentally set off one of the lyrium nodes. Now...now she wasn’t sure if she could risk it. She could justify it to herself before. Her entire life she hadn’t been interested in sex. It had never been about her pleasure. But now…

Hawke wanted him. It was such a strange thing, to want. She wanted to be in his arms, for him to kiss her like he had the night of the party. She couldn’t stop thinking about what it would be like if their activities stopped being one sided. But she couldn’t ask for that. He couldn’t say no. He couldn’t say anything, not when they both knew the power she had over him. She hadn’t let herself act on it before, but now that she knew the consequences, now that she knew how truly vulnerable he was with her...

She was disgusted with herself. Her entire life until now, she hadn’t felt like this, and what did it say about her the first time she had felt desire about anyone was over someone completely powerless against her? 

At some point, Hawke fell asleep in the middle of one of her books and only stirred when Dorian gently pulled her free of the pages. He handed her a dark cup of tea and told her to come with him.

She followed him out to the small balcony in Dorian’s room. It overlooked the gardens, almost unrecognizable to their state when Hawke had first taken the Estate. It was empty now, the sun only starting to rise, but the trappings of the others were clear. The children had left some toys in a grassy patch where the dog had been digging holes again. A shovel was still stuck in the dirt of an in progress flower bed. And the herb garden, only planted a few weeks before, was beginning to take shape.

Dorian insisted, “Drink your tea.”

She did so, though it was already too cold for her taste. She wrapped her hands around her mug regardless as a force of habit from long frozen nights at the clinic.

Dorian cleared his throat. “I don’t know how to say this delicately, so I’ll just have to say it indelicately. When was the last time you bedded Fenris? Two, three days ago?” 

Hawke was too tired to remember how time worked. “Something like that. Dorian, I’ll figure something out, but I just can’t right now. I need to make sure I’m not making the situation worse.”

“Worse? How could letting him suffer make it worse? If you haven’t managed to fry his nerves for the past month, I don’t imagine you’ll do it now,” Dorian retorted. “Nothing has changed except you may now know a true cure.”

“Do you think he is in much pain?” Hawke asked.

Dorian’s voice softened. “I don’t know. I hope not. But clearly something has changed for you. If you don’t want to have sex with him anymore, you don’t have to. We’ll figure something else out.”

Hawke laughed bitterly. “Wanting is not the problem.”

Dorian frowned. “What do you mean?”

Hawke explained to him her situation. Her asexuality, her concession to herself that her activities with Fenris were morally acceptable because of her previous lack of interest. Her fear that her increasing desire for him would put him at risk of harm. Her fear that she was a monster for wanting a man whose life she held in her hands. 

Dorian said quietly, “You need to tell him.”

“Tell him what?”

Dorian looked almost amused. “That you’re in love with him.”

Hawke frowned. “No, I’m not in love with him.” 

“Are you sure? Have you ever been in love before?"

Now Hawke was just offended. "Excuse me?"

"There are some who do not experience sexual attraction unless under certain circumstances," Dorian explained. "It's not unusual for someone to assume they are asexual until those circumstances are met. It is obviously not the case for everyone, but have you considered that it might apply to you?"

Hawke frowned. "I don't understand what you're talking about."

Dorian grumbled and then explained more persistently, "Asexuality is a spectrum, Hawke. Some people do not experience any sexual attraction ever, some do when they have strong feelings for someone. Perhaps, for instance, if they are in love with them."

"You're saying that my entire psychological make up, the way I've been for all of my life, has just suddenly changed? Just because I’ve met the right man? Seriously, Dorian, you of all people should know that-”

"This is probably how you've always been but you've never been in love before so you didn’t know. It's not as if you've over night become the world's most sexually active person and are attracted to everything with a pulse. You specifically want one person because you are in love with him. If you never fell in love again, you’d probably never be interested in sex again.”

Hawke could accept this in theory, but it didn’t fix the situation. “I still own him, Dorian. I can’t tell him. He won’t...I have too much power over him. I can’t.”

“Then we have to figure something else out,” Dorian reminded. “We can’t let him suffer. But if you’re no longer comfortable having sex with him, I think you should explain to him why not.”

“And then what happens?” Hawke demanded. “Then I just hand him over to you like he’s just a toy? Then you can just...just…”

Dorian replied quietly, "I care about him. Not as you do, but as a person certainly. If it should be one of us helping him though this, it should be you. I understand what you’re saying about the difference in power between the two of you. But I do think he loves you, Hawke. I truly believe he does.”

“That makes it so much worse,” she confessed.

Dorian smiled sadly. “I thought it might.”

Hawke whispered, “I don’t know what to do.”

“Talk to him. If you want him to live as a free man, you need to treat him as one. Let him make his own decisions based on the information available to him. It’s all we can do right now.”

Hawke might have thanked Dorian before she left for her room, but just as likely she was so nervous she forgot about all pleasantries. 

Hawke opened her bedroom door quietly and found Fenris asleep in her bed. Despite her near silence, Fenris immediately got out of bed and rose to his feet, standing as if he were ready to throw a punch. His face was stern and still and the lyrium in his skin lightly glowed, ready to be of use to him. Once he saw it was her, his body relaxed slightly, but only slightly. 

Hawke asked softly, “Are you in much pain?” 

Fenris flinched. “No.”

Hawke came closer to him and instinctively put her hand on his bare chest. The hard lines of his face eased and his green eyes seemed more sorrowful than fiercesome. There was something in his face then that made her wonder what he had been like when he was young, before he had been near destroyed in the name of twisted science. It was hard to imagine him as anything other than the stern and wary presence before her. 

Fenris hesitated before putting his hand on hers and gently removing it from his skin. Hawke began to apologize but her words quickly failed her.

Fenris said quietly, “You have been kind to me but I know that it has been merely kindness and nothing more than that. You have long puzzled over the cause of my condition and now you have solved it. Do not feel as if you need to continue...whatever this is between us. If your friend can assist you in fixing the issue, then I can wait until he arrives.”

“Is that what you want?” Hawke asked.

Fenris looked away from her. “I only want my freedom. You have offered it to me without condition and I am forever grateful to you. There is nothing else I could fathom asking for, Mistress.”

Hawke pleaded, “Nothing?”

Fenris swallowed hard. “Nothing that can be offered.”

Hawke admitted, “I don’t understand.”

Fenris said nothing in return. She touched his cheek and he pressed into her touch. He kissed her wrist and she shivered just from the mere brush of his lips against her skin. Fenris looked back at her and she couldn’t read his expression.

He finally whispered, “I trust you but I cannot trust my own judgment. I do not know what it is that you want from me and I do not know what parts of myself I have given to you are because of my admiration of you or my fear of you.”

Hawke’s heart suddenly stilled painfully in her chest. “Your fear of me?”

Fenris confessed, “How could I not fear a woman who owns my soul? How knows how to end my life in a hundred ways without even consideration? What a fool would I be to pin my salvation on the one who holds the keys to my cage? You have shown yourself to be good and just but as long as that cage exists…”

Hawke wanted to plead with him, to swear her love, but she knew what power those words held. They could be just as easily a manipulation as a comfort. It was her actions that had gained his trust, not her words. But what could she possibly do to prove herself? What could she possibly do to make him feel safe?

She began to cry and Fenris brought her into his arms. She clung to him, burying her face in his shoulder. His hand cradled the back of her head, his fingers brushed through her hair. 

He would not make it three weeks. And that was if she had the answer by then or if Anders was strong enough to help her with the procedure. Or if he made it to Tevinter at all. What would happen to Fenris then? What could she do? 

She asked this last question aloud and Fenris whispered, “I don’t know.”

They laid in bed together, holding each other, neither stirring even as the sun had fully risen over the city. Neither knew what to say to break the silence. Eventually Hawke fell asleep and when she woke, Fenris was gone. 

_____________________________________

Four days later, Fenris lay in his own cot, feverishly stroking his cock. He knew it was pointless. He couldn’t finish without a mage touching him. But he was resolved and he was so far into his haze of lust that he was half convinced that he was just mentally strong enough then he could climax. Then he didn’t need to rely on Hawke, then he could trust Hawke. If he could just do it on his own, if he could just…

He had waited until she was at an emergency senate hearing and feigned illness to remain at the Estate. He didn’t even want there to be a chance of her coming to his rescue. He had to do it on his own.

But soon hours had passed, and Fenris was still pitifully trying to reenact the experiences he had shared with Hawke. He had stroked himself until he chafed, fingered himself until he ached, and teased and coaxed every sensitive part of himself until he was in tears. He begged and pleaded to gods he didn’t even believe in, all desperately wanting to just, just finish.

It was past midnight when Hawke finally arrived home, her and Dorian both a little drunk after stopping at a tavern on the way back. Fenris heard them both singing as they made their way up the stairs to their rooms. Fenris panicked. She would come to look for him to make sure he was alright and she would find him like this. What would she do then? What would she say?

He dressed into his night clothes quickly and blew out his candle. He tried to set his bed as if he had been sleeping and slipped under the covers. Hawke opened the door and called out his name softly but Fenris said nothing, forcing himself to breathe slowly, as if he were in restful dreams. 

Eventually, Hawke whispered a good night and closed the door behind her.

Fenris didn’t sleep. He couldn’t sleep. He kept trying on and off for the next hour, hoping to trick his body, but his need only grew more painful and desperate. At one point, he got up and went to the door between their rooms, fully willing to admit defeat. But instead of waking Hawke, he went down the hall and into Dorian’s room.

The mage was still awake, reading in bed. He looked up at the intrusion but seemed unsurprised by Fenris’ presence. All Dorian asked was, “Are you sure this is what you want?” 

Fenris wasn’t. He wanted Hawke. But this was familiar. This would be just as it was. A mage holding him down and taking him. Like Danarius. But gentler, kinder. Dorian was a good man, all considering. 

Yet Fenris shook his head, his entire body beginning to tremble. Dorian tucked him into his bed and then left, quickly returning with Hawke. Hawke seemed oddly calm and Fenris didn’t know if he found it comforting or terrifying.

Hawke slid into the bed, sitting beside Fenris. She kissed his forehead before putting her arm around his shoulders. 

She said softly to him, “Can I run you a bath or are you too far gone?” 

Fenris couldn’t consider anything but sex. With her. With Dorian. With both. He didn’t care. He just needed and he felt like his heart would stop unless she kept touching him. All of this was punctuated by panic, the diagram flashing before his eyes and the knowledge of her power ringing through his ears. Don’t trust her don’t trust her don’t trust her don’t trust her. 

Dorian asked gently, “Do you want me to-”

Fenris shuddered, but he didn't know why. He had come here, after all. He had picked Dorian. Less risk with Dorian. He wasn’t as powerful a mage and Fenris wasn’t in love with him. Fenris could be on his guard with him. Dorian wouldn’t destroy him.

Hawke murmured to Fenris, “Whatever you need, sweetheart. I don’t care about anything else. I just need you to feel better. It’s okay. Whatever you need.”

Even in his feverish state, Fenris could hear the care in her voice. It wasn’t indifference that was making her offer this. It was because his needs were more important than her own. It wasn’t a trick. He wouldn’t be punished for making the wrong decision, for displeasing her. She was trying to save him.

“It hurts,” he whispered. 

“I know, sweetheart,” Hawke murmured. “I know. Do you want me to touch you?”

Fenris did but he couldn’t let her. Maybe it was foolish pride, maybe it was just fear. He didn’t understand anything at all except that he wanted her to hold him and he wanted the ache to go away. But the thought of her hand on his cock was too much. It was too intimate, too vulnerable. Too much. Too much.

Dorian suggested, “Hawke could hold you while I suck you off?”

Fenris could barely consider this before his cock painfully throbbed. Fenris almost cried out from need. He would have agreed to anything, but this felt strangely safe. He nodded, disgusted at the whine that escaped from him. 

Hawke shifted them to the edge of the bed. She sat behind him, her arm around his chest, holding him upright. Her other hand between his legs, gripping one thigh. More support than force, just encouraging him to not fully clamp down on Dorian’s head. He could focus on those fingers, on her nails just barely digging into his skin. She kissed and nipped his ear, her tongue running over the sensitive shell and whispering to him in breathy moans. 

She was here, with him, guiding him, protecting him, loving him. All with nothing to gain. Just here to hold him and tell him all the things he needed to hear. Coaxing him, praising him, telling him how beautiful he was, how strong he was, how brave he was. In everything she said, he heard the words she had held back: I love you. 

Dorian was barely there to him, a dark head bobbing between his thighs, his mouth hot and warm against his cock. He felt Dorian’s groans against his skin, the mage clearly growing more and more aroused. It was good, not earth shattering, but good in a way that made him feel grounded and not ready to fall apart. Dorian was safe because Dorian didn’t love him. Fenris hated that that was what he needed. He hated that he needed to hide his heart when clearly everyone in that room knew how desperately he was in love with Hawke. He was so broken, so shattered, and he hated himself for it. 

His orgasm was drawn out, painful, and he gasped sharply, trying to move through it. Dorian quickened his pace, encouraging him to spill into him, all while Hawke held him, her breath against his neck.

“That’s right, sweetheart,” she praised. “Ride it out. I’ve got you.”

Fenris shook, sure he would collapse if not for Hawke’s grip on him. By the time Dorian had finished swallowing him down, Fenris felt like he had woken up from a feverish nightmare. Hawke kissed his cheek and brushed through his sweat drenched hair with her fingers. She helped Fenris back into Dorian’s bed and tucked him in. Fenris was vaguely aware of the two mages speaking but he was too worn out to do anything but lie there.

In the morning, he woke in Hawke’s bed. Everything hurt and he felt like he could barely move. Hawke brought him breakfast in bed and they spent the morning in her bathtub, Hawke curled up on Fenris’ chest. It was only once they were settled in among the suds that Hawke felt comfortable enough to speak about the night before.

Hawke said gently, “Dorian and I talked about it last night, before we even got home. What would happen. I told him that he had my blessing if you went to him, that neither of you had to worry about me. Dorian and I have been talking a lot about...about trauma. How people react. You’re in a difficult situation right now and I want to get you through it the best I can. Last night you just needed to get off but you also needed space from me. If what we have is too much...if it’s too intense...then I can back off. I want you to trust me and I know that’s hard right now, considering everything. I just want you to know you did the right thing last night going to Dorian for help.”

Fenris murmured, “I hurt you.”

Hawke hesitated before admitting, “Yes, but I hurt you first. I wasn’t there. I dove right into work and I told myself that was the best way to help you instead of asking you what you wanted. I wasn’t making the right decision based on any sort of logic. It was because I was so...overwhelmed by how I feel about you.” 

Neither of them spoke for a time, Fenris aware of how quickly his heart was beating against her cheek. Then he realized she was waiting for him to make a move, giving him the space he needed to decide what happened next.

And what did he want to happen?

Fenris sat up and Hawke shifted to look up at him. He held her face in his hand, stroking her cheek with his thumb. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to bring her over to the bed and make slow, tender love to her. After all this time, he had never truly touched her. They had bathed before, but besides those accidental brushes, he had never held her breast in his hand or slid his fingers into her. They rarely kissed and when they did it was affectionate and not passionate. He wanted to please her and until now it had never seemed like she had wanted that. But there was a hungry in her eyes now, a wanting, a need. Maybe that had scared him as much as the diagram. Maybe seeing that hunger. It was still the Hawke he loved, but it changed things. He was afraid of her losing the control she had always shown before. He was afraid of her devouring him, afraid of an uncontrolled mage. 

Fenris had no idea how to say any of this and simply confessed, “I’m afraid.”

Hawke admitted, “Me too.”

He pressed his forehead to hers and she ever so gently kissed him. Fenris held her close, kissing her just as tenderly. They stayed like this until the water grew cold, neither wanting to stop. 

Eventually it was Fenris who stood and offered his hand to Hawke. She let him help her out of the bath and stood naked in front of him. They dried off and dressed into their softest clothes before curling up into bed with each other. Laying side by side, gazing into each other’s soul, Fenris finally found the right words.

“I am bewitched by you,” he confessed. “You are all I think of, every moment of every day. But I do not want the reason we make love is because of what was done to me."

Hawke agreed, “And I don’t want you to feel like you’re unsafe with me if I’m too...involved in the moment. So if it’s easier for you to...have less feelings...then maybe, just until this is fixed, we can try to give you as much agency in this as we can. It’ll put less pressure on us and...and whatever this is between us. I don’t ever want you to feel trapped or dependent on me. I want you to feel free. I want you to be free.”

He realized then that he had been expecting her to be possessive, to demand him to belong only to him. That was how Danarius had been. Danarius had made it clear that Fenris was his, that all of Fenris’ love and devotion was to be his. He had thought it was the same. That was what it meant to be wanted, to be desired, to be needed.

But Hawke really did think of him as her equal, her partner. She was willing to do whatever it took for him to feel safe, to feel loved. She recognized what he had been through, even if she didn’t understand. She loved him without expecting anything in return. She truly loved him.

And for a moment, the fear in Fenris’ heart faded and he began to hope.

That evening, Fenris and Dorian spoke for a long time. When Hawke asked him later, Fenris simply said that he had thanked Dorian for his help and that Dorian was kind enough to offer it again if need be.

It was much more than that, of course. Fenris begged for forgiveness and Dorian told him about unlearning the lies he had believed about slavery. They spoke of their sexuality, of Dorian still coming to understand his identity as a queer man. They spoke of many things and that night would be the beginning of a long friendship. 

But those things were for Fenris and Dorian and not to be shared with anyone, not even Hawke.


	7. Chapter 7

**cw: surgery, medical discussions, pretty vague - I also don't have an MD so please don't think any of this is logical**

Anders arrived six days early. He was barely in the door before Hawke rushed him away to her study and forced all her notes upon him. She excitedly told him of the discoveries she had made since Anders had left Kirkwall and a very sleep deprived Anders tried to comprehend her plan. 

When she was finally done, Anders let out a long breath. 

Anders remarked, “It’s a very clever idea. Have you attempted it at all before?”

“No,” Hawke admitted. “I needed to understand the root structure first so I didn’t damage any nerves. You’ve always been better at skeletal reconstruction than me and I...I’m not the most objective healer right now.”

Anders examined the diagrams again, tracing his finger through the hypothesized lyrium network. He paused at the last node, supposed to be between the fourth and fifth lumbar. It was a guess because it fit so perfectly between the discs that Hawke had only barely managed to see it was there at all.

“I don’t know if we can excise this one,” Anders said, confirming her own fears. “We’ll either have to disable it or drain it. It’s low enough to not harm most systems but-”

“It could still leave him paralyzed. I know.”

“So do we start there or at the base of his skull?”

“I’m not sure,” Hawke said. “We don’t know how well our drainage techniques will work. If we burst a node lower down, his liver will likely be able handle most of the damage. I’m more worried about breaking the blood-brain barrier and having a leakage that way. The shock could kill him outright.”

Anders sighed, leaning back in his chair. “Let’s go under the assumption we can only do one. If so, then it should be the first node. It’s riskiest but it’ll make the biggest impact. Even if we just manage that, it should help. Then we work our way down, one node at a time. Like that shrapnel case with the three impact sites. One at a time, assess as we go.”

Hawke confessed, “You’re going to have to make the calls this time. I know I’m internal normally, but I don’t trust my own judgment here. The minute there’s any palpitations I’m going to want to bail.”

Anders nodded. “Okay. So we get your apprentice to watch vitals throughout. I’ll weaken the node’s attachment to the greater lyrium network until it’s a solid mass. You’ll excise, I’ll protect the internal organs. After each one, we’ll reassess.”

Anders hesitated before looking back to Hawke. “Throughout we’ll have to test his nervous functions to make sure we haven’t damaged anything.”

“I know,” Hawke replied quietly. “He has to be awake for this to work.”

“Have you told him that yet?”

Hawke shook her head. “I was hoping I’d find away around it. The best I can think of is keeping him semi-conscious. Just enough that he can respond, but not enough that he’s going to remember anything.”

Anders’ expression softened, turning from the stern expression of her partner to the clearly worried friend. “I don’t think that’s going to be possible.”

They talked through the case a little longer before the absurdity of the situation became too hard to ignore. Anders was here. Here, in this massive estate that Hawke had somehow gained. Two apostates from a squat clinic in Lowtown now discussing a delicate surgery they would never have attempted in their hovel just from the risk of infection alone. Poor refugee Hawke was now Magister Hawke and in this country Anders was no longer a wanted criminal but a dashing hero of the revolution. And beyond all of this, Hawke had risked exposing her connection to the Underground to bring Anders here to save a man she hadn’t known for a season yet. The fact Anders had agreed to this, that he had closed up their clinic for potentially months, to follow her here made everything feel so much more serious and deadly. Hawke had made a clear decision: Fenris was more important than any other commitment in her life. She just hadn’t realized how strong that conviction was until Anders was sitting at her desk, deciphering Dorian’s illegible notes.

This wasn’t an infatuation and this wasn’t just another no-win scenario she was determined to solve. This was true and honest desperation. 

She suspected that was why Anders was there six days early. He had probably known that she would not have asked for him to come for anything else.  
_____________________________________

It was a strange dinner party. 

All the servants had been vaguely aware that Fenris was ailing and someone (likely Reul) had spread the rumour that it was lyrium poisoning. For weeks, they had been extra gentle with the bodyguard to the point that even the mabari would follow him protectively around the grounds. He had put up with this on an individual level but having all of them around the table at once was too much. Combining this with both Dorian and their long-absent guest Magister Tilani making advances on the newly arrived Anders, Fenris was very tempted to simply take his plate and eat in a closet.

After everyone wished Fenris well, some more subtly than others, he and Hawke went for a walk around the front gardens. It was not their normal evening routine of wine and reading. It felt serious to have her arm in his, to walk so stiffly and formally together it was if they were being introduced at a grand ball.

Eventually Fenris stopped them at a small fountain, the only one that Hawke hadn’t converted into a rainwater collector. He held her hands in his. She was clearly shaking and her brow seemed to now be permanently knit together. Perhaps her fear should have terrified him, but she had always held his life as her own. That wouldn’t change tomorrow. They had spoken of every risk, every possible failure. He didn’t relish the idea of being half-awake throughout the procedure but Hawke assured him the concoction she would give him would leave him soft and dreamy. 

Hawke said, “Fenris, if tomorrow...if something happens tomorrow...I need to tell you...because I never wanted you to feel like you needed to...Fenris, I…”

Fenris whispered, “I know.”

Hawke smiled weakly. “Of course you do.”

Knowing it was potentially his last chance, Fenris confessed, “I love you too.”

Hawke put her arms around him and kissed him. He held her, resting his face in the crook of her neck. 

“I’m not afraid,” he murmured. “I trust you.”

Hawke clung to him, her hands grasping at his jacket. Fenris cradled her, trying to memorize every detail. This is what he wanted to dream about when he was under Hawke’s knife. If he was to die, he wanted to die this content. 

But that was not what Fenris dreamt of. 

_____________________________________

Fenris felt the rough wool blanket against his skin, brushing against his cheek. It irritated a cut in his skin and he instinctively put his hand up to scratch the itch. It didn’t feel right. His skin was too soft and there was no lyrium humming beneath the surface. He looked at his hand, seeing it too unmarked. His fingers were small, almost delicate. There were callouses on his hands that had long since healed. Closing his hands, he could remember. Rope burn from baling. His chest hurt, the same ache it did at the end of every summer in the fields. Haying was heavy, backbreaking work and under the hot sun the dried grass shattered at his touch, burying under his skin. He would breathe in just as much of it, his coughing so bad at the end of the season he’d sometimes vomit. 

Fenris felt for the rest of his markings but his dark skin (darker than he could ever remember it being) was only beset with cuts from the hay. His arms and legs were skinny, his knees knobby, and his bare feet just a touch too big for his body. Reality started to return to him, reassuring him it was just a strange dream. Lyrium was so expensive, why would anyone put it in a person like that? He’d probably seen one of the tattooed Dalish men in the fields with him. There was one with midnight black skin whose face was lined with flawless white. He had been kind to Fenris yesterday. He shared his canteen with him. He was new. Only new slaves did that.

He was in the compound – that part was coming back to him. This where he slept in the summers. He’d only go back to the kitchens during the winter, back to serving in the manor when the worst of the farming was over. That’s where Varania and his mother were. His mother was a tailor. Varania...she mended things...maybe. Why couldn’t he remember what Varania did?

Someone called to him, but it wasn’t his name. Leto. That was his name. Leto. His mother named him after an elvish prince in a story she heard once. She didn’t know how the story ended. She changed it every time he asked. Leto. The farm hands sometimes called him Lee – easier to hear over a long distance, easier to say. 

Why did he think his name was Fenris? It was Leto.

There was no one in the compound although the day was already bright. He got out of bed and walked out to the grass, now long and green and softly blowing in the breeze. It was at his waist now, not his shoulders. The sky was dark with clouds and he could feel the hint of rain in the air. 

In the distance, he could see his sister. Fairer than him, her hair red. They had once looked like near twins. Knobby kneed and gangly, both with noses too big for their faces, and the same dark green eyes. But he knew it was her like he knew his own voice. Varania.

He went towards her but she turned and ran. He chased after her, the grass growing taller around him, so high that he couldn’t see anything but the harvest to come. He was small again and there was a scythe in his hand, barely sharp enough to scratch the ground. He could barely swing it, every part of his chest burning. But the hay couldn’t be cut, no matter what he tried. A foreman screamed at him and Leto cried, wanting to be strong enough to do just this thing, just this one thing.

He heard Varania, just as young as him, call out his name. He put down the scythe and went after her. She giggled and he laughed too, calling out for her to wait for him. He crossed through the grasses and onto a rocky patch of dirt. A thin river ran through it and other slaves were there, bathing in the small patch of coolness to escape the overbearing sun. 

His mother was there, scrubbing her face with mud with the chambermaids. Varania was in the water, splashing around with a friend. His mother saw him and called out to him. Leto walked towards her, the gravel beneath his feet smoothing and turning into a soft sand. 

Suddenly he heard the cry of a wolf. He froze as everyone else ran – where, he didn’t see where they had run to. He turned to see a wolf with three pairs of eyes grinning at him. It howled at a blood red moon above them and he felt the pull to run beside him under the starlight. He was a wolf too. He had always been a wolf.

 _-Shit. Clamp down, right there. I thought you said you had it.  
-I _did have it. The lyrium tendril reattached.  
-How? It was a mass! I saw the fatty tissue-  
-We can’t just drain it. It has to come out. Now. 

Leto went towards the wolf, gently offering out his palm. He should have been afraid, but he had never been so calm. 

Varania and his mother cried out for him, but he couldn’t see them. He couldn’t turn his head to look for them. All he could do was go to the wolf and kneel down before him. The blood moon loomed above them, casting all in a sickly red. 

The wolf growled and Leto understood its admonishment. There had been another way. He didn’t have to choose this path. Relying on mages, relying on the magic of the oppressor instead of the strength that lay within him.

Leto pleaded, “I am not a violent man.”

The wolf laughed. It was the only thing he was. Violence. And he had picked the wrong army to soldier for. He had chosen his fear over his family.

_-His pulse is dropping fast, Hawke.  
_-I know, I almost have it. Anders, keep that barrier up. Do not let it reattach!  
_-Hawke, we might have to -  
_-No, I’m getting it out. Give me twenty seconds. Just twenty seconds._ ___

____

____

Leto looked up into the foul creature’s eyes and a memory of an old lullaby came to him. Suddenly he knew what he was seeing.

“What do you want with me, trickster?” he accused. “What do you want?”

Everything you are about to lose. Everything you have already lost. One captor for another. One master for another. Use their chains against them, my blue wraith. Make them pay. Kill them. Don’t let them take this pain from you. Don’t let them make you into just another thing. 

Leto felt a sharp pain at the back of his head and he cried out. He put his hands around his throat, the pressure somehow comforting. 

The Dread Wolf approached him, his coarse black fur brushing against Leto as the creature circled him. A last chance. The Dread Wolf would let him keep his powers, keep his memories. Let him be a force for vengeance, to find and slay all those who had ever owned a slave, to bring power back to elven kind. Just four had to die. Four knew the secret to Leto’s weakness. Then he would be free on his own terms, not relying on some girl to save him – and how could he even trust her not to kill him? Did he not hear it? Did he not hear her failing? 

The pain intensified and Leto screamed, clamping his hands on his neck. The sharp knife, the first incision. The first graft of the lyrium. His body still aching from the battle melee mere hours before. He still could see the dying light in his last opponent’s eyes. Leto had held him as he bled out into the sand, begging forgiveness, promising that he would atone – no, that hadn’t happened – no, Leto had nearly lost his arm, he had fought one handed, he had been bleeding out into the sand, his mother there, right there, but held back. Danarius had come to him, picked him up by his throat. He had laughed, he was joyous. His wolf. He had found his wolf.

And just as suddenly, the pain stopped. The phantom ache remained but Leto could stand again, facing the Dread Wolf, now impossibly large before him.

Still time to change sides. Still time to atone.

For what? What did Leto have to atone for? Surviving? 

_-Hawke...we can’t close him up.  
-Can’t we slow the regrowth?  
-I don’t think we can. Look at the second node. It’s already branching. If it embeds itself like the lumbar node, we’re never getting it out.  
-Anders….  
-I know. It’s my call, but you need to live with it.  
-Dorian?  
-His heart’s strong and he’s responding to physical stimuli. I say we do it.  
-  
-  
-  
-Numb the site and keep moving. I have a visual on the second node. The second he goes into arrhythmia, you tell me.  
-Then what do we do? We can’t stop?  
-It was always a possibility we’d have to fuse the spine. The faster we work, the more function he gets to keep._

Leto frowned, looking up at the disappearing moon. The Dread Wolf sat beside him and howled up at the darkening sky. Leto reached up and the air felt thick with mist, a warm mist that felt almost like...like the spray of blood. Leto pulled his hand back in disgust and saw that his skin was once more laced with silver lyrium.

Leto whispered, “It was worth it. I freed them.”

Two. Only two. 

“But they were mine,” Leto insisted. “They were my responsibility.”

How many of your kind died for two?

How many of your kind died for your leash?

Leto demanded, “What do you want from me, Fen’Harel? What do you want?”

A loyal soldier for the war to come. Do not waste this gift. Do not waste those lives. Atone. Fight. Die. Kill. But do not waste this gift. Do not waste this pain.

Leto pleaded, “If we do not fight for the ones we love, then what do we fight for?”

Justice. 

Leto ordered, “Get out of my head.”

If I leave, you will die.

Was that true? He could no longer tell what thoughts were his own and what were the trickster’s. Had Fen’Harel come to offer him his life in exchange for his service? To allow him to keep both his power and gain his freedom? 

All you need do is wake up. Open your eyes and wake up. Kill the Champion before she rises to power. Kill the abomination before he destroys the world. Kill the reformer before our kind is betrayed by the promise of peace. Then you will be free. Then no one will ever harm you again. Then you will find your vengeance, yours and your people’s. You will find peace. 

Or I can leave you here and you will join the Fade, haunted by your mistakes for all of your days. I can let you die. 

_-Hawke, he’s -  
-Shut up. Both of you, shut up. Let me focus. _

Hawke. He meant Hawke. 

Leto tried to remember who that was, what that name meant. He saw a human woman, her long black hair tied back tightly as she scribbled notes on her desk. The same woman in the garden with two children and a dog. Her sitting at a table with her servants as equals, getting a hot cup of tea for her elderly cook, insisting she not get up. Her in her bath tub, so covered in bubbles he could barely see her. Her mouth on his, her fingers in his hair. 

And her cradled in his arms as he carried her to the barrister, unsure if she would live but already certain that he would die for her.

A strange sort of peace came over Leto. “Then let me die.”

For an instant, he saw the Dread Wolf’s true form. 

And then he fell into the black.  
_____________________________________

Hawke sat in her chair, her knees tucked up to her chest. She watched Fenris’ barely breathing body, unable to stop staring at the crude incisions across his back, some cut through thick scar tissue. Dorian had angled him to be mostly lying on his stomach, but gently angled to help prevent fluid buildup. 

What Hawke had achieved was a miracle. She was skilled, she was studied, but this had been beyond the extent of her abilities. If she wasn’t an apostate, this surgery would be written about and studied in every Circle across Thedas. She had removed five nodes of lyrium embedded into a spinal column. Few mages studied as both medics and healers and fewer still would have attempted anything close to this dangerous. She could have killed him a hundred different times. So the fact that he had survived this far was an achievement beyond belief.

But had it worked? Had her theory been sound to begin with? Would he be free?

Or would he even wake up again?  
_____________________________________

For two days, Hawke did nothing but sit by Fenris’ bedside. She let no one else care for him, not even Patrica and the twins who insisted she had more important things to do. Dorian preformed all of Hawke’s senatorial duties. Anders went and – honestly, she wasn’t sure what Anders was up to but he seemed to be staying mostly out of trouble.

Then in the middle of the night, Fenris took a deep breath. Hawke rushed over to check on him and to her surprise, she saw him slowly open his eyes.

Tears rolled down Hawke’s face. She was too overcome to ask him how he felt. She took his hand in her own and he squeezed it softly. 

Fenris asked hoarsely, “All of it?”

Hawke assured, “All of it, sweetheart. All of it.”

Fenris closed his eyes again. “So tired.”

She stroked his cheek. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be right here.”

The lyrium in Fenris’ hand glowed briefly and Fenris smirked to himself. Hawke started to ask him what was so funny, but he was already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is brought to you by me deciding to inexplicably have Fenris hallucinate the Dread Wolf and not realize I was doing that until suddenly there was a wolf on page - you're welcome?


	8. Chapter 8

After another week, Dorian had convinced Hawke to go back to the Senate and to let Fenris heal in peace at the Estate. Fenris hated the idea of her there without him near to protect her, but he was in no shape to act as bodyguard. He was walking around well enough and his powers seemed to be working from the little he tested them. He was just so very tired and the pain he had always felt with the lyrium bands had grown from a general dull ache to a strong acute pain. He couldn’t guess what movements would send shooting pain throughout his back. Hawke was investigating how to heal the nerve damage but Fenris told her to put her priorities elsewhere. A tax reform bill was currently being debated and if it passed, it would allow for slave to be freed upon owner’s death without taxation. It was a small thing, but it could fundamentally change how inheritance worked in Tevinter. 

Fenris knew it was unlikely to pass at all, despite Hawke’s politicking. And even if it did, it felt too little too slowly. It had not occurred to him why until the memories of his vision had started to come back to him and he remembered Fen’Harel’s words. 

_Kill the reformer before our kind is betrayed by the promise of peace._

Fenris figured that the reformer in question had been Dorian, just from context. But didn’t it apply to Hawke as well? She was trying to find a peaceful solution to an inherently violent system. Not just in this case, but with the mages in Kirkwall. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop on her last conversation with Anders before he left, but her partner’s frustration was clear. There were no-win scenarios. There was always a cost. So why not make the oppressor pay it instead of the oppressed? 

Besides the philosophy the hallucination asked of him, there was the issue of his own past. Fenris had seen his sister. He knew her name. He knew his own name, even if he hadn’t shared it aloud yet. He was not a superstitious man. He didn’t believe in the power of one’s name and how a true name could be used against a person. Fenris just wasn’t sure what to do with the information. He didn’t know what came next, now that he could physically be without a Master.

Without a Master. He had never been a free man before. Technically, he still wasn’t, but the paperwork meant little to him now that the nodes were removed. But still...now he could go where he wanted, do what he wanted, be who he wanted. He loved Hawke...but did he want to be with her as Fenris or learn who he was without her?

In the week after he had woken, Fenris had debated this with himself a hundred times. He should have said it aloud. He should have told Hawke what he was thinking. Surely, she would be there for him, would tell him whatever he wanted to do was the right thing to do. He had seen how she was with the other slaves upon their freedom, how she had helped each of them begin their life anew.

Hawke had said that she loved him – well, tried to say that she loved him. He had no doubt that she did. But he had a journey before him and he would never ask her to choose between him and her cause. This is who she was. Her work, her mission. She would not walk away to scour Tevinter for Varania. Even if she would, Fenris knew she would always regret it. 

So Fenris didn’t give her the choice.

Fenris’ handwriting was poor and he considered asking Dorian for help, but he didn’t want to risk the mage telling Hawke what he was doing. So Fenris struggled through his note, taking three tries before it was legible. 

_I have a sister and I have to find her.  
Do not wait for me.  
Do not look for me._

He wanted to write that he loved her, but he found he just couldn’t. He loved her more than words could say. There was nothing he could scratch on this page that would convey how deep his feelings for her ran. 

So instead he wrote  
_Thank you for returning my life to me._

He folded the paper and placed it on her pillow. It was early afternoon and no one questioned why he would leave with nothing but a satchel. Errands, the others would suspect, or just bringing Hawke something she had forgotten at home.

With every step, Fenris doubted his decision. He could still turn around, he could still go back to her. But he kept walking.

_____________________________________

If one were to ask Hawke about the next two years of her life, she would say that they were the longest she had ever lived through. Her days were full and there was little time to sit and ruminate. But the moments of quiet were punctuated with a deep and bitter loneliness that she was unsure she would ever be past. 

At first she thought he would send another letter or send word of some other kind, but he didn’t. Then she thought that maybe he was in a dangerous place and that he couldn’t risk revealing his location. Then she thought that he had been captured or he had been killed. But after the first six months, she had come to a heartbreaking and sickening conclusion. No matter what Fenris’ fate was, he wasn’t coming back.

By then, her former slaves were free and beyond all hope, she had managed to pass not only an abolishment of estate tax on freed slaves but to end the taxation of freed slaves all together. It didn’t end slavery, but at least it didn’t cost their owners to free them if their hearts were moved to do so. It wasn’t a change in consciousness, but simply greed winning out. She knew that. But it was something and she could justify that it all had been worth it if at least something came out of it.

She had been in Tevinter for almost a year when she received a tear stained letter from her mother in Kirkwall. Her petitions had finally heard and the Amell Estate was to be returned to Magister Hawke’s care. Hawke just needed to go back to Kirkwall and sign the paperwork allowing Leandra to take ownership and act as the steward of the manor. 

Hawke sat in her study just holding the letter for a long time. She had to go back to Kirkwall but she wasn’t sure she would be strong enough to leave it again. She missed her mother, her friends, and even her terrible little clinic. She missed being active in the Underground and not just sneaking them the odd coin when she could. It was the world she belonged to. Fenris had made Tevinter habitable but his absence made it almost desolate. She had almost no one she could trust. Her new bodyguard, a near boy named Krem, was dutiful but he didn’t have the same grasp of Tevinter politics that Fenris had. She liked Mae and went to her parties and salons, but there would always be a cultural gap that Hawke would never be able to cross. Dorian was a good friend and confidant but he would always be an apprentice to her. He could advise, but he was young and looked up to her to have all the answers. She was proud of the man he was becoming, but she didn’t know how much more she had to teach him. Magic and medicine, certainly, but Dorian was born to be a politician, not a healer. 

Fenris told her not to wait for him. She had hoped that she didn’t have to stay at the Estate pining for him. More and more she worried he meant that she should find someone else. But she tried to have hope that it meant that when he was ready, he would find her and come back to her. It wouldn’t be hard to find her in Kirkwall. She wasn’t leaving him behind. He’d come home to her, wherever home was.

That night Hawke went on a walk with Dorian around the Estate. It was hard not to think of the night before Fenris’ surgery, when she had been so cowardly, when she should have comforted him instead of falling apart in his arms. She would be braver this time. She would do the right thing.

Hawke said quietly, “This is your world, Dorian. I think it’s time to go back to mine.”

“You’re leaving? But...think of everything you’ve accomplished here! You have been a lone voice of reason and you have been instrumental in bettering the lives of so many people. The Senate needs you. Tevinter needs you. I...I need you.”

“I can’t, Dorian. I know I can’t go back to the life I had in Kirkwall, but it’s where I need to be. I can’t just...I can’t just beg and plead for reform when my people are suffering. There is work that needs to be done in Tevinter, but I don’t think I’m the one who needs to do it. Dorian...I think it should be you.”

Dorian laughed. “Me?”

Hawke explained, “I intend to give my Senate seat to you. You can inherit it from me as my heir or you can be gifted it as my spouse. I was thinking the latter, just to protect you. You of course can see who you like, but at least then your opponents won’t be able to use your sexuality against you. If you ever manage to legalize queer marriage in Tevinter, I would be more than thrilled to grant you a divorce. Or if you move elsewhere and meet someone. But just for now, I think it might be the safest thing to do.” 

“And what if you decide that you want to marry?” 

Hawke smiled sadly. “For love? No, I don’t think so. But if I am going to have a political marriage, I would be happy to do so with a dear friend.”

Dorian considered this silently as they continued their walk. Eventually he stopped them and took her hands in his.

“Are you sure?” He asked. “There will be no love, no sex, no children. It will be just as things are now, but without the possibility of being with someone who can give you those things.” 

Hawke assured, “I have no desire to fall in love again. But this way, you can carry on your work and I can carry on mine without any pressure from anyone else to be with people we do not want to be with. Think of it, Dorian. Please.”

Dorian chuckled. “You know I swore to my father I would never marry.”

“Is that a yes?”

Dorian’s expression turned almost whimsical as he said, “I do not think it occurred to me until this moment that I still believed in the possibility of true love. I think ...I think I am not ready to concede that possibility just yet. And I think, Hawke, that perhaps you should not either. I will serve as your delegate in your absence and run the Estate as you would run it. But no, I do not think I will marry you.”

Hawke shook her head. “Dorian…”

Dorian confided softly, “I still believe in Fenris and I can believe enough for the both of us. He will come home again. If you still love him, you should wait for him. I promise not to settle for anything less than real love if you promise to do the same.”

Hawke could not agree to this but Dorian’s optimism was too hard to counter. She conceded to let the matter go for now. What was the point of arguing? 

_____________________________________

Hawke returned to Kirkwall alone. She was unsure what she had been expecting, but she certainly had not expected a grand party waiting for her at her ancestral home. No aristocrats attempting to gain favour with Magister Hawke, but friends from her Lowtown life excited to hear stories of her misadventures in Minrathous. Hawke’s heart eased at the sight of her mother and she held Leandra for a little too long, just long enough for her to know that her daughter was less than well.

Hawke lasted about six days before she got to work. She was officially a Magister, a very concerning title in Kirkwall, but she quickly made it clear to all that she was the same person as before. Now she just had more money and spoke Tevene. She couldn’t work directly for the Underground in the same capacity and she couldn’t risk bringing attention to her clinic with Anders. Instead she funded it secretly and began plotting how she could use her status to sneak mages out of Kirkwall and escaped slaves into it. She could work a bit more freely in Kirkwall – there was a significantly smaller chance of assassination here and the city was in such chaos it was easier to use it to her advantage. 

Hawke had hoped she would feel better in Kirkwall and in a sense, she did. She had opportunities now that she could have barely dreamt of before. She was making a real difference in her city and for her people and she knew that Dorian was doing good work in his. And she was home, home with her friends and her mother, and her dog who she had so profoundly missed. But it was difficult seeing Anders. Of course their relationship had changed, no longer being direct partners and the massive difference now in their social status. But they were figuring that out, their friendship too strong to be broken by Hawke’s unexpected windfall and their morals too closely aligned not to work together. 

What was hard about seeing Anders was that he knew about Fenris. Fenris was in every unspoken space between them. Anders had tried to ask once but Hawke had shut him down, refusing to speak to him for days. Hawke never wanted to speak about Anders’ time in Tevinter, how he had travelled so far and for so long to save the slave that Hawke had fallen in love with. But when she saw Anders, she saw him on the other side of Fenris’ body, desperately working with her during the most terrifying moments of her life. She relived all her panic and all her broken and half formed thoughts. And she relived finding Fenris’ note, short and stilted, waiting for her. She knew it was a language barrier, that it wasn’t meant to be offensively to the point, but each word had still stung. How could she blame him? Wouldn’t she have done the same if she thought there had been a second chance to save Carver or Bethany? Wouldn’t she have run?

Winter came and Leandra attempted to start arranging parties for Hawke to meet potential suitors. It didn’t last long and Hawke suspected that Anders had said something to her. Or maybe she had just known that Hawke’s heart laid elsewhere. 

And so things were for many months and then on the first day of spring, Hawke received a message from Merrill. A strange elf had come to the Alienage looking for a place to hide. Merrill hadn’t seen him personally but a neighbour told her that apparently he had silver tattoos and three circles on his forehead. 

Hawke didn’t think. She just ran.

Well, ran most of the way. The Alienage was a lot further than it used to be.

Hawke went to Merrill’s little house and fervently knocked on the door. There were elves lingering around their great tree and most of them looked at her skeptically. Many no longer trusted Hawke now that she was a Magister despite all that she had previously done and Hawke typically met Merrill elsewhere these days. Hawke was starting to get anxious about one particular onlooker when Merrill finally opened the door and ushered her inside.

Hawke started to ask about the elf when her friend covered her mouth with her hand and shushed her.

Merrill whispered, “You are very, very lucky that I got to you before the militia did. Since the Blue Wraith got here last night, we’ve had mercenaries circling around the Alienage like they were dogs and we were breakfast.”

“Blue Wraith?”

“He’s a vigilante,” Merrill confided. “I’ve heard that he fought in Seheron alongside the Fog Warriors and that he’s freed a thousand slaves. They say that he can rip a man’s heart right out of his chest. Very scary. But he sounded just like the elf from Tevinter that Anders-”

Merrill blushed and put her hand over her own mouth now. Hawke sighed. Of course Anders had told all of their friends about Fenris. 

“Where is he now?” Hawke asked.

Merrill admitted, “I don’t know. Everyone has been telling everyone he’s here and that it’s our community’s responsibility to protect them as long as he’s in Kirkwall.” 

“But why is he here?” 

Merrill shrugged sheepishly. “Maybe to do more avenging?” 

Hawke agreed, “Lots of things to avenge here.”

There was a knock at the door and Merrill answered it. After a quick conversation in Elvish with one of the militia, Merrill returned and put the kettle on for tea.

“I’ve said that you’re here for lunch and that it would be very suspicious if I had cancelled on you,” Merrill explained. “So we’ll just have a nice meal and after awhile you can go back home like nothing ever happened.”

That was easier said than done, knowing that Fenris was so close, but she tried her best. Merrill was always good company and her stories always had happy endings.

_____________________________________

It was late in the evening now and all but Hawke were tucked away in bed. Even her beloved mabari was gently snoring away in front of the fire. Hawke snuck out of her bedroom and down the grand stairs into the library. She lit a candle and began examining a tome she had brought with her from Tevinter. It was a pet project of hers, translating it into Common in order to share with other medics in the Underground. Important, but dreadfully boring and usually enough to lull her to sleep.

As she worked, she heard an ever so quiet tap. She rose, leaving the book on the table. She heard a second tap and a click. After years getting into trouble with Isabela, Hawke recognized the sound as a lock being picked. The nearest door being the garden entrance, Hawke crept towards the intruder, ready to strike.

The door opened, only for the home invader to be a severely blushing Orana, who had apparently snuck out in the night to meet her new beau and forgotten her key. Hawke apologized profusely and made them both a cup of tea. After Orana’s nerves were settled and she was back in bed, Hawke returned to the library. To her surprise, the book was open on her arm chair and between the pages there lay a single red rose. Hawke picked it up gingerly and brought it to her face to sniff for poison. It seemed safe enough so she brought it over to the streaming moonlight to further examine it. She reached the second floor’s window only to discover it was open and that there was an ever so slight drop of blood on the windowsill. Perhaps someone had pricked their finger on a thorn before dropping off their token.

Hawke closed the window and went back to her bedroom, taking the rose with her. She laid it on her bedside table before pulling the sheets around herself. It had been a very strange day and she was hoping to wake up and find it all a dream.

Yet in the morning, she found that was not the case.

Orana was in the kitchen making breakfast for the five of them and was excitedly telling Sandal about her date the previous night while the dwarf smiled and nodded, encouraging her to keep talking.

Orana continued, “And then, right when she was walking me home, two ruffians from the Followers of She tried to attack us. I thought we were done for but then the Blue Wraith just showed up out of nowhere and saved us! At least, I think it was him. He was glowing like everyone says he does. And while I’m thanking him, of all things, he just stops me and asks me if I work for Magister Hawke and I tell him, yes, of course I work for Mistress.”

Sandal asked, “Then?”

Orana explained, “Then I told him where he could find the Amell Estate because everyone knows where that is and said that if he came by in the morning, I’d be happy to introduce him to her.”

Sandal saw Hawke and chimed, “Morning.”

Orana agreed, “Exactly, in the morning.”

“Good morning,” Hawke said, trying not to startle Orana. “Didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you said we might be expecting a visitor?”

Orana shook her head. “I don’t know, Mistress. I expect a man like that is very busy, but he seemed very interested in meeting you. I hope he’s not trying to stir up trouble. Everyone knows how good a woman you are, Mistress.”

Sandal nodded and smiled. “Very good.”

Hawke smiled back at him and patted his shoulder. “Alright, you two. I’ll be in the study. Call me when breakfast is ready?”

Orana replied cheerfully, “Of course, Mistress.”

Hawke asked, “By the way, Orana. Why did you have to sneak out for your date? You know I’m more than happy for you to have time off.”

Orana whispered conspiratorially, “It’s Mistress Amell, Mistress. She thinks I should court the DuLac’s young butler Cedric but between you and I, he isn’t my taste, Mistress, but I don’t want to upset Mistress Amell. She means very well.”

Hawke chuckled. “She always does. I’ll talk to her.”

“Thank you, Mistress.”

Hawke went to her office which adjoined the library. She settled in at her desk and started looking through the letters that had come by the morning post. She frowned at one with no return address and nothing to mark the envelope. She unfolded the letter and recognized Fenris’ shaky handwriting. 

_I am sorry I was too afraid to speak to you. Tonight I will be at the same place. I understand if I cannot be forgiven._

Hawke held the letter to her chest, willing her heart to slow. It had been Fenris last night. He had been coming to see her but he had panicked when she had been so long returning to the library. But she had another chance. He was coming again, tonight, and she had no idea what she was going to say to him. Why had he come back? Why now? And why in the middle of the night without any warning?

And now, now she had to wait the rest of the day to find out. 

_____________________________________

The rose had been a poor choice, Fenris decided, and he blamed the Antivan for suggesting it. Hawke was not terribly interested in romance and her love of all green and growing things surely made a cut flower not an ideal token of affection. But the renegade Crow insisted that no one visit an ex-lover empty handed and practically placed the rose in Fenris’ teeth himself. 

Leaving it behind was an even worse idea. Now she probably thought that he was out of his mind and that she should change all the locks in her house. Or maybe she already had a lover who routinely left her flowers in the middle of the night and would be disappointed to find him waiting in a tree for a chance to see her. 

Yet after nightfall, Fenris made his way through the city, avoiding whatever guards and gangs that might take an interest in him. It was well past midnight by the time he safely made it to the Amell Estate. He arrived to find the window open and Hawke with her arms on the sill, her head resting on the crook of her elbow. She stirred at the sound of him climbing the tree and looked up just as he came into sight. Hawke stepped back and offered her arm, helping him into the manor. 

Once Fenris made it through the window, Hawke pulled away and he expected her to grow angry but instead she looked small and vulnerable. Hawke had been such an entity in his memory, strong and capable, and incredibly wise. In that moment, she looked as if a mere word from his lips would be enough to shatter her. He was overcome with regret and he knelt before her, hanging his head.

She tilted his chin to look into his eyes. Her brown eyes seemed impossibly deep and her lips as soft and full as the moon. 

Fenris whispered, “Forgive me.” 

He pressed his face into her palm and kissed it. 

Fenris whispered again, “Forgive me.” 

He kissed her wrist and she shivered as he murmured, “Please forgive me.” 

When Hawke said nothing, Fenris stood slowly, his heart sinking in his chest. Hawke embraced him, burying her face in his shoulder. He held her close, resting his hand on the small of her back. 

Tearfully, she confessed, “I wanted so badly just to accept that you were gone. I was trying to get over you. And now you’re here, you’re here, and I don’t know what to say or do. You left, Fenris. I thought you were dead or that you just...you just didn’t want me.”

He had dreamt of her voice for two years. To hear it now, so laced with pain, filled him with deep regret. 

Fenris pleaded, “Hawke, I never meant to-”

Hawke looked up at him, an ember of ire in her eyes. “Meant to what?”

Fenris whispered, “Meant for you to yearn for me as I have yearned for you.” 

Hawke’s voice softened. “I would have gone with you. Wherever you led, I would have followed. I would have helped you find your sister.”

Fenris admitted, “I needed to go alone. I needed to know who I was as my own man and I was too weak a man to say that to you. I was too weak to say goodbye. I hoped I would return to you as the man you deserved. I hoped it would be enough.”

“You already were enough.”

Fenris murmured, “Not for me.”

Hawke looked up at him and he was unsure if she believed him. There was so much doubt in her eyes, so much uncertainty. How could he blame her? She had given him everything and he had left her. 

Hawke let out a long shaky breath. “You should have written.”

He agreed quietly, “I know.” 

“Will you leave again?”

Fenris admitted, “I don’t know. There is so much to tell you, Hawke. I don’t know where to even begin. But if you ask it of me, I will swear to never leave your side again unless you send me from it.”

Hawke leaned in, brushing his nose against hers. “I would never ask for that.”

Her lips were a breath from his. Oh to kiss that mouth once more. He would get on his knees again and beg if it meant he could kiss her again.

Fenris groaned, “Then what vow would you ask from me?”

Hawke pleaded, “Only that you love me.” 

Fenris swore, “I love you.”

Hawke kissed him hungrily and he moaned, scrambling to press her against the wall. He kissed her just as fiercely, one hand against the wall, one hand reaching between her legs. She hitched up her thin night gown, wrapping her thigh around his hip. His heart raced, his mind almost screaming at him to slow down. It had been two years and they had never been like this before. She had always had to hold back, always guided them, always focused on him and never let him touch her, please her. Now she was unlacing his trousers and he knew with utter certainty that he was about to be inside of her. 

At the touch of her sex beneath his fingers, he stopped overthinking and looked to her once more. Hawke gripped his back, holding tight as he stroked her, sliding his fingers into her as she had done to him a dozen times before. She panted, his touch distracting her from the task of freeing his cock from his clothes. Hawke kissed him desperately, trying to both grind against his fingers and get his trousers past his hips. Once she managed to do so, she wrapped one arm around his neck, her thighs around his hips and guided his cock into her.

The rest was instinct. Fenris barely kept them against the wall, too focused on the feel of her around him. He thrust into her, kissing her just as hard. It was too fast, too rough, but she gripped onto him, moaning his name into his ear, pleading with him not to stop. He lost himself, consumed by her skin against his, her mouth against his. He barely managed to ask if he had to pull out but she kissed him desperately and insisted he didn’t.

Fenris’ hand slipped off the wall and Hawke’s leg fell to the floor, balancing them. He swept her into his arms and laid them on the ground. He kissed her before withdrawing and replacing his cock with his tongue. Hawke put her hand over her mouth, trying not to scream as he consumed her, sucking and licking every piece of her that he could reach. Her thighs trembled and he brought her closer to him, holding onto her hips. He felt her climax against his tongue, tasted her as she fell apart against him. He kept going, determined for a second. It followed quickly, Hawke still shaking and whimpering against her fingers. She pulled him up to kiss him and he slid back into her, so close to his own release. 

Hawke whispered, “I love you.”

Fenris shuddered, pounding into her as she desperately held onto him. He snapped his hips quickly , wanting to bury himself into her, wanting to be completely in her embrace. She cried out his name before pressing her mouth to his, covering her scream. Fenris slammed into her twice more before completely unravelling, shuddering as he spurted deep inside of her.

As he came to his senses and stilled his hips, the enormity of the moment suddenly hit him. He stood, his legs still trembling. Hawke rose to meet him, her nightgown clinging to her sweat and slick. The soft moonlight cast against her features and he was overcome by the sheer adoration in her eyes. 

At that moment, Fenris knew that he was lost. He belonged to her, body and soul. No matter what came next, he would face it with her or no one else. He would stay with her. They would fight their battles together, side by side. Come what may, he belonged with her.

Hawke kissed him and murmured, “Welcome home.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sportsfans, it's finally over. Did I set Fenris as some sort of Batman figure? Yes. Am I writing a sequel of that? No lol this thing was already a big big monster and I am tired lol


End file.
